SKETCHES 


PROM 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS." 


5V 


.SWEET   AND    KNOX. 

I. 


ILLUSTRATED    BY 


W.     H  .     C  A  S  K  I  E 


New    York: 
TEXAS   SIFTINGS  PUBLISHING   COMPANY, 

150    Nassau    Street 
1882. 


9^7 

69  7 J^ 


Copyright  y  •''**' 
SWEET    &    KNOX. 
1882. 


S.  W.  GREEN'S  SON, 

Printer,  Electrotyper  and  Binder, 

74  and  76  Beekman  and  13  and  15  Vandewater  Sts., 

NEW  YORK. 


HENRY       CLAY       LUKENS 


[Erratic  Enrique] 


OF 


GIDDY  GOTHAM'' 


THIS    VOLUME 


FRATERNALLY     INSCRIBED 


PR  E  F A  C  E 


During  the  days  and  the  years  of  our  pilgrimage 
here  on  earth,  we  have  accumulated  vast  quantities  of 
cheerful  statistics,  hilarious  facts  and  solemn  truths. 
So  full  of  these  things  had  we  become  about  a  year 
ago,  that  there  was  not  room  inside  us  for  even  an  or- 
dinary appetite.  The  matter  came  to  a  crisis  when, 
one  day,  we  tried,  with  the  aid  of  a  mallet  and  wedge,  to 
pack  away  an  ordinary  unripe  anecdote,  and  realized 
the  imminent  danger  we  were  in  of  cracking  open  in 
several  places  if  we  did  not  find  some  means  of  dispos- 
ing of  a  part  of  the  surplus  information  we  were  car- 
rying. We  felt  that  the  public  needed  it  more  than  we 
did,  but  having  fears  that  the  market  w^ould  be  glutted 
if  we  unloaded  it  all  at  once,  we  determined  to  give  it 
to  the  American  people  in  broken  doses. 

The  result  has  been  that  for  twelve  months  we  have 
been  digging  these  facts,  statistics,  and  truths  out  of 
ourselves,  and  sending  them  abroad  all  over  the  land 


vi  PREFACE. 

through  the  medium  of  Texas  Sif tings — a  weekly  illus- 
trated journal  costing  $2  a  year,  and  sold  by  all  news- 
dealers in  installments  of  5  cents,  payable  weekly. 

We  now  feel  somewhat  relieved,  although  there  is  a 
great  deal  in  us  yet  that  it  will  take  years  to  get  rid  of. 
This  book  contains  a  part  of  what  we  have  succeeded 
in  enticing  out  of  ourselves  and  publishing  in  Texas 
Sif  tings  during  the  past  year. 

These  Sketches  are  put  in  the  form  of  a  book,  not  so 
much  to  enlighten,  educate,  and  ennoble  the  human 
race,  as  to  put  money  in  the  pockets  of 


Mmt^Mh 


CONTENTS, 


The  Drummer.     Illustrated    . 

The  Conductor.     Illustrated 

The  Razor-Back  Hog.     Illustrated  . 

Another  Mystery  Explained.     Illustrated    . 

The  Hotel  Clerk.     Illustrated  . 

The  Cow-Boy.     Illustrated  .         .         . 

The  Solemn  Bore.     Illustrated. 

The  Texas  Cow.     Illustrated 

The  Red  Ant.     Illustrated 

Power  of  the  Press  in  Texas.     Illustrated 

A  Model  Visitor.     Illustj-ated  . 

The  Reckless  Local  Reporter.      .     .      ^     . 

Gunning  for  Quail.     Illustrated 

San  Antonio  Mexicans.     Illustrated 

Fire  Cranks.     .      .     .       . 

The  Pelon  Dog.     Illustrated. 

Col.  B.  Snort's  Legal  Experience.      Illustrated. 

The  Hotel  Waiter.     Illustrated     . 

The  Statistical  Crank.     Illustrated  . 

Dissatisfied  Englishmen.     Illustrated 

Obituary.     Illustrated 

Heaven.         .... 

The  Texas  Desperado.      Illustrated  , 

Mexican  Bull  Fight.     Illlustrated . 

The  Cayote.     Ilhistrated  . 

A  News  Factory    .... 

The  Patronizing  Subscriber 

The  Horned  Frog.     Illustrated     . 

That  Typical  Texan.     Illustrated 

He  Wanted  a  Notice 

The  Editorial  Crank.     Illustrated 


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viii 


CONTENTS. 


Illustrated . 
Illustrated 


Illustrated . 


The  Confidential  Bore.     Illustrated 

Lavanburg's  Substitute.     Illustrated. 

A  Texas  Mustang.     Illustrated     . 

The  Tumble  Bug.     Illustrated. 

Throwing  the  Lasso.     Illustrated. 

Eighteen  Eighty-One 

AVe  Have  Sworn  Off. 

The  Egotistical  Bore 

A  Foiled  Book-Agent    . 

A  Poetic  Gem.     Illustrated 

Texas  Soldiers.     Illustrated 

The  Gloriously  Drunk  Man. 

Why  He  Came  to  Texas 

Death  in  the  Pot.     Illustrated  . 

The  Omnipotent  Rope.     Illustrated 

The  Awful  Coal  Bug         .... 

The  County  Fair.     Illustrated 

The  Unhappy  Farmer       .... 

Another  Brass-Mounted  Offer.     Illustrated 

Malarial  Intoxication 

A  Yankee  Desperado.     Illustrated. 
Editorial  Sermon        ..... 

The  Chapparel  Cock.     Illustrated . 

The  Weeping  Drunk  Man.      Illustrated   . 

Mulcahy's  Cow.     Illustrated . 

Writing  under  Difficulties. 

The  Texas  Climate         .         .      '  . 

Sunday  Reflections 

P.  B.  Lee— A  Character  Sketch.     Illustrated. 

The  Colored  Cook.     Illustrated. 

St.  Patrick's  Day.     Ilhistrated 

The  Confidential  Drunk  Man.     Illustrated 

A  Rough  Translation     .... 

Siftings.      I  Illustration    .... 

Answers  to  Correspondents.     4  Illustrations 

Brevities.  ..... 

Fashion  Notes 

Tail  Piece— End .         .         .        .        .        . 


Knox  . 

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Sweet  &  Knox 

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Sweef . 

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Our  Artist 

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SKETCHES 


FROM 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS.-^ 


THE     DRUMMER 


The  drummer 
inhabits  railroad 
trains.  He  is  al- 
ways at  home  on 
the  cars.  He  al- 
so temporarily  in- 
fests the  best 
rooms  in  hotels. 
In  winter  he 
wears  an  ulster, 
with  the  surcin- 
gle hanging  loose 
behind,  and  in 
summer  a  linen 
duster. 

He  is  usually 
swung  to  a  satch- 
el containing  a  comb  and  brush,  another  shirt,  a  clean 
celluloid  collar,  and  a  pair  of  cuffs;  also  a  railroad 
guide,  and  a  newspaper  wrapped  around  a  suspicious- 
looking  bottle.     That  is  about  all  the  personal  baggage 


lb  '  •■'•  ''•''•••  -SKETCHES  EROM 


he  carries,  except  a  '^Seaside  Library"  novel,  and  a 
pocket-knife  with  a  corkscrew  in  the  back  of  it.  He 
has  a  two-story  iron-bound  trunk  containing  "  sambles 
of  dem  goots,"  which  he  checks  through  to  the  next 
town.  He  always  travels  for  a  first-class  house— the 
largest  firm  in  their  line  of  business  in  the  United 
States,  a  firm  that  sells  more  goods,  and  sells  them 
cheaper,  than  any  two  houses  in  the  country,  He  is 
very  modest  about  stating  these  facts,  and  blushes  when 
he  makes  the  statement;  but  he  makes  it,  nevertheless, 
probably  as  a  matter  of  duty. 

He  can  talk  on  any  subject,  although  he  may  not 
know  much  about  it,  but  what  little  he  knows  he  knows, 
and  he  lets  you  know  that  he  knows  it.  He  may  be 
giving  his  views  on  the  financial  policy  of  the  British 
government,  or  he  may  only  be  telling  you  of  what,  in 
his  opinion,  is  good  for  a  boil,  but  he  will  do  it  with  an 
air  and  a  tone  that  leaves  the  matter  beyond  dispute. 

He  is  at  home  everywhere,  and  he  never  seems  out  of 
place  wherever  you  find  him,  although  we  do  not  re- 
member ever  to  have  found  him  in  church.  Sitting  on 
his  gripsack  at  a  way-station,  waiting  for  a  train  six 
hours  behind  time,  and  abusing  the  railroad  officials 
from  brakesman  to  president,  with  a  profuse  and  ro- 
bust profanity  that  gives  the  air  a  sulphurous  odor  for 
miles  around,  he  seems  in  perfect  keeping  with  the  sur- 
roundings. The  scene  would  be  as  incomplete  without 
him  as  a  horse  race  without  a  yellow  dog  on  the  track. 

When  the  drummer  gets  into  a  railroad  train,  if 
alone,  he  occupies  two  seats.  One  he  sits  on,  and  on 
the  other  he  piles  up  his  baggage  and  overcoat,  and 
tries  to  look  as  if  they  didn't  belong  to  him,  but  to  an- 
other man  who  had  just  stepped  into  the  smoking-car 
and  would  be  back  directly. 

Drummers  are  usually  found  in  pairs  or  quartettes  on 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  ii 

the  cars.  They  sit  together  in  a  double  seat,  with  a  va- 
lise on  end  between  them,  on  which  they  play  eucher 
and  other  sinful  games.  When  they  get  tired  of  play- 
ing they  go  out  into  the  smoking-car,  where  the  man 
who  is  traveling  for  a  distillery  "  sets  'em  up  "  out  of 
his  sample-case,  and  for  an  hour  or  two  they  swop  lies 
about  the  big  bills  of  goods  they  have  sold  in  the  last 
town  they  were  in,  tell  highly-seasoned  stories  about 
their  personal  adventures,  and  exhibit  to  each  other  the 
photographs  of  the  last  girls  they  made  impressions  on. 

While  the  drummer  is  not  ostentatiously  bashful, 
neither  does  he  assume  any  outward  show  of  religion. 
His  great  love  of  truth  is,  however,  one  of  his  strong 
points,  and  he  is  never  known  to  go  beyond  actual  facts, 
except  in  the  matter  of  excessive  baggage.  Regarding 
this,  he  will  sometimes  stretch  a  point  until  it  will  cover 
up  two  hundred  pounds  of  a  three  hundred  pound 
trunk.  He  is  the  only  man  who  dares  address  hotel 
clerks  by  their  Christian  names.  He  knows  every  ho- 
tel in  the  country,  and  every  room  in  every  hotel.  When 
he  arrives  by  a  late  train  he  is  first  to  get  out  of  the 
'bus  and  reach  the  clerk's  desk,  when  he  says  to  the 
clerk:  "Hello,  Charley,  old  fel,  how  are  you?  Got  No. 
i6  for  me?"  And  the  clerk  flashes  his  Kohinoor  and  a 
smile  on  him  as  he  shakes  his  hand,  pounds  the  nickle- 
plated  call-bell,  and  shouts:  "John,  take  the  gentle- 
man's baggage  to  No.  i6." 

In  the  dining-room  the  drummer  is  a  favorite  with 
the  colored  waiters,  although  he  orders  more  dishes  and 
finds  more  fault  with  the  fare  than  other  guests  do.  He 
does  not  believe  the  waiter  when  he  tells  him  that  the 
milk  is  all  out,  but  sends  him  off  to  inquire  farther 
about  the  matter,  and  while  the  waiter  is  gone  he  fills 
up  his  glass  out  of  the  blue  milk  in  the  cream-pitcher. 
He  flirts  with  the  chambermaids,  teases  the  boot-blacks 


SKETCHES  EROM 


and  plays  practical  jokes  on  the  regular  boarders.  He 
goes  to  bed  at  a  late  hour,  and  sleeps  so  soundly  that 
the  porter  wakes  up  the  people  for  two  blocks  around, 
and  shakes  the  plaster  off  the  wall,  in  trying  to  com- 
municate to  him  the  fact  that  the  'bus  for  the  4:20  a.  m. 
train  will  start  in  ten  minutes. 

The  drummer  has  much  to  worry  and  fret  him. 
Traveling  at  night  to  save  time,  sleeping  in  a  baggage 
car  or  the  caboose  of  a  freight  train,  with  nothing  but 
his  ear  for  a  pillow,  bumping  over  rough  roads  on 
stages  and  buck-boards,  living  on  corn  bread  and  cof- 
fee dinners  in  cross-road  hotels,  yet  under  all  these  vex- 
atious circumstances  he  is  usually  good-humored  and 
in  the  best  of  spirits,  although  he  sometimes  expresses 
his  feelings  regarding  the  discomforts  of  travel,  and 
the  toughness  of  a  beefsteak,  or  the  solidity  of  a  bis- 
cuit, in  language  that  one  would  never  think  of  attrib- 
uting to  the  author  of  Watts'  hymns. 

All  kinds  of  improbable  stories  are  told  about  drum- 
mers, some  of  them  being  almost  as  improbable  as  the 
stories  they  themselves  tell.  For  instance,  we  once 
heard  that  a  man  saw  a  drummer  in  the  piney  woods  of 
North  Carolina  camping  out  under  an  umbrella. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

"  I  am  camping,  and  living  on  spruce  gum  to  save  ex- 
penses," replied  the  drummer. 

"  What  are  you  doing  that  for  ? " 

"  To  bring  up  the  average." 

It  seems  that  the  firm  allowed  him  a  certain  sum  pei 
day  for  expenses,  and  by  riotous  living  he  had  gone  far 
beyond  his  daily  allowance.  By  camping  out  under  an 
umbrella  and  living  on  spruce  gum  for  a  few  days,  the 
expense  would  be  so  small  as  to  offset  the  previous  ex- 
cess he  had  been  guilty  of.  This  story  is  probably  a 
fabrication. 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  13 

The  chief  end  and  aim  of  the  drummer  is  to  sell 
goods,  tell  anecdotes,  and  circulate  the  latest  fashiona- 
ble slang  phrase.  If  he  understands  his  business,  the 
country  merchant  might  as  well  capitulate  at  once. 
There  is  no  hope  too  forlorn,  nor  any  country  merchant 
too  surly  or  taciturn  for  the  drummer  to  tackle.  Our 
illustration  at  the  head  of  this  article  shows  the  coun- 
try merchant  under  the  influence  of  the  drummer. 
That  same  merchant,  not  long  ago,  loaded  up  a  double- 
barreled  shotgun  with  nails,  with  the  intention  of  vac- 
cinating the  first  drummer  who  entered  his  store.  The 
commercial  emissary  represented  in  the  picture  has 
been  talking  to  him  only  fifteen  minutes.  In  that  time 
he  has  told  the  old  man  four  good  jokes,  paid  him  five 
compliments  on  his  business  ability  and  shrewdness, 
propounded  two  conundrums,  and  came  very  near  tell- 
ing the  truth  once.  As  a  result,  the  sanguinary  old 
man  is  in  excellent  humor,  and  just  about  to  make  out 
an  order  for  $500  worth  of  goods  that  he  doesn't  act- 
ually need,  and  then  he  will  go  out  and  take  a  drink 
with  the  drummer. 

The  drummer  is  the  growth  of  this  fast  age.  With- 
out him  the  car  of  commerce  would  creak  slowly  along. 
He  is  an  energetic  and  genial  cuss,  and  we  hope  that 
he  will  appreciate  this  notice  and  the  fact  that  we  have 
suppressed  an  almost  uncontrollable  impulse  to  say 
something  about  his  cheek. 


-»-<^o<^ — 


14 


SKETCHES  FROM 


THE     CONDUCTOR. 


In  appearance 
the  conductor  re- 
sembles a  U.  S.  Na- 
val Officer.  If  a 
s  p  y  -  g  1  a  s  s  were 
shoved  under  h  i  s 
arm  and  he  were 
taken  up  and  set 
down  on  the  quar- 
ter-deck  of  a 
United  States  man- 
of-war,  the  sailors 
would  all  think  he 
belonged  there. 
The  only  difficulty 
about  it  is  there  is 
no  United  States 
man-of-war  it 
would  be  safe  to  put  the  conductor  on.  He  would  not 
take  any  such  risk  of  being  drowned.  Like  the  cap- 
tain of  a  ship,  the  conductor  is  boss  of  the  situation. 
He  does  not  precisely  run  the  train.  The  engineer  does 
that,  but  the  conductor  runs  the  engineer.  Unless  he 
chooses,  he  has  no  occasion  to  be  civil  to  anybody  on 
the  train,  unless  the  president  of  the  company  is  on 
board. 

The  principal  duty  of  the  conductor  is  to  take  up 
tickets,  and  collect  fares  from  such  as  have  neither 
tickets    nor  passes.     If  any  such  passenger  refuses  to 


''TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  15 

pay,  or  attempts  to  put  the  conductor  off,  the  conduc- 
tor puts  him  right  off  in  the  middle  of  a  big  prairie. 
The  conductor  has  even  been  known  to  treat  newspa- 
per men  that  way,  and  the  journalist  who  is  thus  treated 
usually  gets  even  by  taking  the  conductor  off — in  his, 
the  journalist's,  paper.  A  journalist  of  that  class  will 
then  proceed  to  denounce  railroad  monopolies. 

As  soon  as  the  train  leaves  the  station,  the  conduc> 
tor  enters  the  car,  and  after  looking  in  out-of-the-way 
places  for  irresponsible  parties  who  might  be  hiding, 
he  proceeds  to  go  through  the  car  and  to  levy  and  col- 
lect assessments  from  the  passengers,  just  the  same  as 
if  he  held  a  power-of-attorney  from  Jesse  James  him- 
self. As  a  general  thing,  his  authority  to  collect  money 
from  the  passengers  is  only  derived  from  Jay  Gould, 
Vanderbilt,  or  some  other  legitimate  highwayman.  As 
it  is  very  difficult  for  Jay  Gould  to  be  on  every  car  in 
every  train,  and  as  the  servant  is  like  the  master,  pas- 
sengers are  directed  to  get  their  tickets  before  entering 
the  car.  The  object  of  this  is  evidently  to  prevent  pas- 
sengers from  paying  their  fares  to  the  conductor,  as  hfe 
might  not  be  able  to  bear  up  under  the  temptation.  At 
night,  ho^^ever,  the  ticket-ofhces  are  not  open,  and  the 
passengers  have  to  pay  their  fares  to  the  conductor,  and 
then,  if  Jay  Gould  is  not  on  the  car,  and  if  the  conduc- 
tor is  not  very  conscientious,  he  may  forget  to  turn  the 
money  over.  Jay,  himself,  never  forgets  to  turn  the 
money  over.  When  he  buys  a  railroad  cheap,  he  fre- 
quently turns  it  over  three  or  four  times,  so  they  say. 
Some  passenger,  who  has  a  spite  at  a  railroad  compa- 
ny, makes  a  vow  that  the  company  shall  never  handle 
any  of  his  money,  so  he  always  pays  his  fare  to  the  con- 
ductor, and  then  he  feels  sure  the  company  will  never 
get    any   of   it.      The   belief   that   railroad    conductors 


i6  SKETCHES  FROM 

grow  rich  in  this  way,  is  caused  by  many  of  them  wear- 
ing large  diamond  breastpins  that  outshine  the  lantern 
the  conductor  holds  on  his  arm.  Very  few  people 
know  that  Guch  breastpins  cost  only  a  dollar  and  a  half 
at  a  hardware  store,  and  are  frequently  presented  to 
the  conductors  by  drummers,  as  souvenirs. 

Another  duty  of  the  conductor  is  to  fail  to  impart  in- 
formation to  reporters  about  any  accident  that  may 
happen  to  his  train.  If  a  conductor  tells  a  reporter 
anything  about  an  accident,  the  company  requests  him 
to  send  in  his  resignation.  Much  more  information  can 
be  obtained  from  a  dead  man,  who  has  been  run  over, 
lengthwise,  by  five  passenger  cars,  than  can  be  got  out 
of  a  conductor.  When  a  reporter  asks  him  for  infor- 
mation about  the  dreadful  accident,  he  talks  and  looks 
as  if  he  relied  on  the  reporter  to  tell  him  all  about  it. 

In  all  seriousness,  the  conductor  has  combined  a  va- 
riety of  qualifications  to  fill  the  position.  He  is,  as  a 
rule,  very  polite,  considering  the  number  of  foolish 
questions  that  are  put  to  him  every  hour  in  the  day. 
He  is  courageous,  and  reliable,  and  above  all,  he  is  so- 
ber. When  his  varied  qualifications,  and  the  risks  he 
runs,  are  taken  into  consideration,  he  is  very  poorly 
paid.  It  is  estimated  that  one  first-class  corffluctor  has 
more  sense  than  a  car-load  of  legislators. 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS. 


17 


THE     RAZOR-BACK     HOG. 

To  the  traveler 
through  Texas  one 
of  the  strangest 
and  most  peculiar 
features  of  the 
landscape  is  the 
(^x.:,JA£a      "*''-~^ — »,,      ^-'^^^-y^         razor-back      hoe. 

cottage  style  of  architecture.  His  physical  outline  is 
angular  to  a  degree  unknown  outside  of  a  text  book  on 
the  science  of  geometry.  His  ears — or  the  few  rags 
and  tatters  of  them  that  the  dogs  have  left — are  furled 
back  with  a  knowing,  vagabondish  air.  His  tail  has  no 
curl  in  it — although  our  artist  has  decorated  him  with 
one  in  the  above  illustration — but  it  hangs  aft,  limp  as 
a  wet  dish-rag  hung  out  of  a  back  window  to  dry.  The 
highest  peak  of  his  corrugated  back  is  six  inches  above 
the  level  of  the  root  of  his  tail.  He  does  not  walk  with 
the  slow  and  stately  step  of  the  patrician  Berkshire, 
but  usually  goes  in  a  lively  trot.  He  leaves  the  impres- 
sion that  he  was  late  starting  in  the  morning  and  is 
making  up  for  lost  time  ;  or  that  he  is  in  doubt  about 
the  payment  of  that  check,  and  is  hurrying  to  get  it 
cashed  before  the  bank  closes. 

The  country  razor-back  prowls  around  in  the  woods 
and  lives  on  acorns,  pecan  nuts  and  roots  ;  when  he  can 
spare  time  he  climbs  under  his  owner's  fence  and  as- 
sists in  harvesting  the  corn  crop.  In  this  respect  he  is 
neighborly  to  a  fault,  and,  when  his  duty  to  his  owner's 


SKETCHES  EROM 


crop  will  allow,  he  wijl  readily  turn  in  and  assist  the 
neighbors,  even  working  at  night  rather  than  see  the 
crop  spoil  for  want  of  attention. 

He  does  not  know  the  luxury  of  a  sty.  He  never 
gets  fat,  and,  from  the  day  of  his  birth,  sometimes 
two  years  roll  into  eternity  before  he  is  big  enough  to 
kill. 

Crossing  the  razor-back  with  blue-blooded  stock 
makes  but  little  improvement.  The  only  effective  way 
to  improve  him  is  to  cross  him  with  a  railroad  train. 
He  then  becomes  an  imported  Berkshire  or  Polan-Chi- 
na  hog,  and  if  he  does  not  knock  the  train  off  the 
track,  the  railroad  company  pays  for  him  at  about  the 
rate  of  one  dollar  a  pound,  for  which  they  are  allowed 
the  mournful  privilege  of  shoveling  the  remains  off  the 
track. 

The  ham  of  the  country  razor-back  is  more  juicy 
than  the  hind  leg  of  an  iron  fire-dog,  but  not  quite  so 
fat  as  a  pine  knot. 

The  city  razor-back  differs  from  his  country  relative 
only  in  the  matter  of  the  quality  of  his  food  and  the 
length  of  his  tail.  The  city  species  prey  on  the  roots 
of  tropical  plants  and  other  garden  luxuries  instead  of 
corn,  and  eat  cinders  and  old  type  in  the  back  alley  in- 
stead of  the  acorns  and  pecans  of  the  breezy  wood- 
lands, that  are  assimilated  in  the  digestive  organs  of 
the  country  stis  aper. 

The  tail  of  the  city  hog  has  usually  been  chewed  of( 
in  early  life  by  dogs;  in  other  words,  it  has  been  cur- 
tailed.  This,  and  the  arid  patches  on  his  back,  where 
the  hair  has  been  scalded  off  by  the  enraged  boarding- 
house  cook,  adds  much  to  the  picturesque  appearance 
of  the  brute.  A  man  once  told  us  that  the  razor-back 
hog  was  the  only  bird  of  prey  that  was  amphibious  in 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  19 

its  habits,  and  that  could  lift  a  gate  off  its  hinges  with- 
out ruffling  a  feather. 

As  the  novelists  say,  "  much  might  be  said  on  this 
very  interesting  subject/'  but  time  is  money,  and  we 
are  forced  to  concludebriefly  with  the  following  ''pome" 
by  one  of  the  old  masters: 

Ye  pigge  he  is  a  pretty  fowl, 

And  wond'rous  good  to  eat; 
Hys  ham  is  good,  lykewise  his  jowl. 

And  eke  his  little  feete. 
But  if  you  try  a  thousand  yeare 

I  trow  you  still  will  fayle 
To  make  a  silk  purse  of  hys  eare 

Or  a  wissel  of  hys  tayle. 

^^<}<x2^ 


A     COMPROMISE. 

A  darkey  entered  Mose  Schaumberg's  store  on  Austin 
avenue,  and  asked  the  price  of  a  hat,  and  was  told  the 
price  was  three  dollars. 

"  I'll  gib  yer  six-bits." 

"  Schon,"  said  Mose  to  his  clerk,  "  choost  run  dot  tam 
darkey  out  of  de  store." 

John  seized  the  colored  customer  by  the  neck,  and  was 
shoving  him  out  of  the  door,  when  the  latter  called  out: 

"  I'll  gib  yer  a  dollar.  Speak  quick  before  I  quits  de 
store." 

"  I  dakes  your  offer,  mine  frend.  Pring  him  back, 
Schon." 


SKETCHES  FROM 


ANOTHER     MYSTERY     EXPLAINED. 


You  can  s  e  e  it 
down  here  in  Tex- 
as already,  and  in 
a  short  time  it  will 
make  its  appear- 
a  n  c  e  all  over  the 
United  States. 
Like  prickly  heat 
and  boils,  it  comes 
out  regularly  every 
spring.  We  refer 
to  the  spectre  of 
the  front  yard. 
Perhaps  the  reader 
does  not  quite  com- 
prehend our  mean- 
ing. We  refer  to 
the  woman    who 

^^*f^«S;^^W-  P^^"''  shrubbery 
.-«f^  ^J^i^'^  ^-^^^         and    grubs    about 

generally,  early  every  spring,  in  her  front  yard — the 
woman's  front  yard,  of  course,  not  the  spring's.  Spring 
has  not  got  any  front  yard  of  her  own. 

Early  in  spring  the  average  woman,  rich  or  poor, 
dresses  herself  in  a  faded  calico  dress,  disguises  her- 
self in  a  big  poke  bonnet,  and,  armed  with  a  garden- 
rake,  she  goes  prowling  about  like  a  scarecrow  on 
wheels,  a  nigger  with  a  watering-pot  usually  bringing 
up  the  rear  of  the  procession. 

The  question  arises:   Why  does  the  average  female 


''TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  21 

strive  to  make  herself  so  hideous  as  to  fill  a  dead  man 
with  distrust,  if  he  were  to  walk  past,  when  about  the 
only  returns  for  her  trouble  are  a  $40  rheumatic  pain 
in  her  back,  and  a  suggestion  from  her  husband  that 
she  hire  a  wagon  and  go  around  selling  vegetables? 
The  reason  why  women  will  persist  in  fixing  up  a  gar- 
den is  simply  because  they  cannot  help  themselves. 
They  are  acting  from  an  irresistible  impulse.  As  Gui- 
teau  would  say,  they  are  inspired  to  act  as  they  do. 
We  will  try  to  explain  what  we  mean. 

Why  do  English  sailors  strip  to  the  waist  when  the 
decks  are  cleared  for  action,  and  why  is  it,  that  when 
two  Englishmen  fight,  the  first  thing  they  do  is  to  pull 
off  their  coats  ?  It  is  because  their  ancestors  did.  Julius 
Caesar  says  that  when  he  landed  on  the  coast  of  Brit- 
ain, the  natives  divested  themselves  of  their  clothing 
before  they  rushed  into  the  water  to  meet  the  Roman 
galleys.  Perhaps  the  ancient  Britons,  like  the  modern 
editor,  only  had   one  suit  and  did  not  care  to  get  it  wet. 

Why  do  stockmen  of  to-day  brand  calves  that  do  not 
belong  to  them,  and  gobble  up  mavericks  generally? 
Because  it  is  in  their  nature  to  do  so.  The  first  stock- 
man we  read  of,  Jacob,  played  sharp  tricks  on  Laban, 
his  partner  in  the  cattle-raising  business. 

Why,  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  do  picnics  become 
epidemic,  and  old  and  young,  rich  and  poor,  rush  off 
into  the  woods  to  eat  their  lunch  under  trees,  and  be 
fed  on  by  ticks  and  mosquitoes  ?  It  is  simply  because 
for  tens  of  thousands  of  years  man  was  in  a  nomadic 
condition.  He  wandered  about  with  his  family  in  the 
woods,  living  on  berries  and  being  annoyed  by  insects, 
and  although  man  has  become  civilized,  and  lives  in  a 
house,  yet,  nevertheless,  about  once  a  year  an  irresisti- 
ble desire  to  return  to  his  old  vagabond  life  comes  over 


22  SKETCHES    FROM 


him,  and  he  just  has  to  go  on  a  picnic,  after  which  he 
cools  down  for  the  rest  of  the  year,  and  puts  sweet  oil 
on  the  tick  bites. 

Just  so  it  is  with  women  gardening.  Until  quite  re- 
cently woman  had  to  do  all  the  hard  work  in  the  field. 
She  had  to  dig  up  the  ground,  plant  the  crop  and  gath- 
er it,  until  it  became  second  nature  to  her.  Her  hus- 
band was  kind  enough  to  encourage  her  to  keep  on  by 
shaking  a  stick  at  her  when  she  wanted  to  sit  down  and 
rest,  but  it  was  below  his  dignity  to  work.  Such  was 
the  condition  of  woman  from  the  beginning  of  time. 
It  will  be  remembered  that  Adam  was  too  lazy  to  gath- 
er in  the  apples,  so  Eve  had  to  do  it  for  him.  Of 
course  all  this  is  changed  now.  All  that  most  women 
do  in  the  way  of  hard  work  is  to  dress  up  and  go  to 
parties ;  but  every  spring  she  cannot  resist  the  impulse 
to  put  on  her  worst  clothes  and  drudge  with  a  hoe  out 
in  the  front  yard,  as  her  ancestors  used  to  do  thous- 
ands of  years  ago. 

— ^-^Ok^ — 

literary  item. 

An  Austin  clergyman  visited  the  jail  a  few  days  ago, 
and  asked  one  of  the  prisoners  if  he  did  not  want  some- 
thing interesting  to  read,  offering  him  a  tract  with  the 
title:     "  The  Sinfulness  of  Gluttony." 

The  prisoner  shook  his  head,  and  replied: 

"  I've  got  some  reading  matter  that  interests  me  more 
than  that." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  Yesterday  I  had  a  copy  of  the  indictment  served  on 
me,  and  to-morrow  I'm  going  to  get  a  list  of  the  jurors 
that  are  to  try  me." 


TEXAS    SIFTINGS. 


23 


THE     HOTEL    CLERK. 


The  hotel  clerk 
is  a  y  o  u  n  g  man 
who  was  originally 
created  to  fill  an 
Emperor's  throne 
or  adorn  a  Duke- 
dom; but  when  he 
grew  up,  there  be- 
ing fewer  thrones 
and  doms  than 
there  were  Emper- 
ors and  Dukes,  he 
w  a  s  temporarily 
forced  to  take  a 
position  behind  a 
hotel  register.  His 
chief  characteris- 
tics are  dignity  of 
bearing,  radiant 
gorgeousness  of  ap- 
parel, haughtiness 
of  manner,  and  jewelry.  His  principal  duties  consist 
in  hammering  on  the  call-bell,  in  handing  guests  the 
wrong  keys  to  their  rooms,  and  in  keeping  a  supply  of 
toothpicks  on  the  end  of  the  desk.  When  all  his  time 
is  not  taken  up  in  the  performance  of  these  arduous 
duties,  he  will  condescend  to  explain  to  a  guest  that  he 
does  7iot  know  whether  the  North-bound  train  leaves  at 
3  p.  M.,  and  if  the  guest  insists  on  enticing  farther  in- 


24  SKETCHES    FROM 

formation  out  of  him,  he  will  probably  hand  him  a  last 
year's  official  railroad  time-table. 

When  a  stranger  comes  in  on  a  late  train,  jams  his 
valise  down  on  the  counter  and  approaches  the  register, 
the  hotel  clerk,  in  a  preoccupied  and  austere  manner, 
turns  the  register  and  hands  the  stranger  a  pen — a  pen 
that  has  an  impediment  in  its  legs,  catches  in  the  pa- 
per, and  splutters  fragments  of  the  guest's  name  all 
over  yesterday's  "arrivals."  The  clerk,  after  turning 
around  the  register  and  examining  the  signature  to  see 
if  it  is  genuine,  expresses  som^  doubt  as  to  there  being 
a  vacant  room  in  the  hou  e.  The  stranger  says  he  is 
bound  to  have  a  room.  The  clerk  retires  behind  the 
desk,  and  after  consulting  some  pigeon-holes,  concludes 
that  the  gentleman  may  have  No.  1,192.  He  writes 
some  hieroglyphics  on  the  register,  and  then  he  talks 
for  half-an-hour  with  the  porter  and  the  baggage  man 
about  the  trunk  of  the  gentleman  in  No.  46  having  got 
mixed  with  the  baggage  belonging  to  the  gentleman  in 
No.  64.  When  he  gets  that  matter  arranged  he  sits 
down  to  polish  and  admire  the  long  nail  that  he  is  cul- 
tivating on  his 'little  finger,  and  forgets  the  gentleman 
who  has  rented  No.  1,192,  until  he  is  made  aware  of  his 
existence  by  an  impatient  tap  on  the  counter.  With 
the  a'r  of  a  martyr,  and  a  sigh  that  expresses  the  fact 
that  he  considers  the  whole  traveling  public  his  ene- 
mies, he  says  : 

"Ah!  would  you  like  to  go  to  your  room?" 
There  is  about  as  much  hospitality  in  his  tone  as 
there  is  in  the  voice  of  a  bull-dog  when  somebody 
treads  on  his  tail.  It  is  not  intended  to  be  hospitable. 
It  is  intended  to  impress  on  the  mind  of  the  stranger 
the  fact  that?,  although  he — the  clerk — is  passing  poor 
on  $12.50  a  week  and   board,  yet  he  is  proud,  and  is 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  25 

merely  filling  the  ignoble  position  he  now  occupies  un- 
til he  can  come  into  his  dukedom,  which  includes  among 
its  perquisites  a  yacht  on  the  coast  and  a  shooting- 
lodge  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland. 

Then  John  shows  the  gentleman  to  No.  1,192. 

No  matter  how  crowded  a  hotel  is,  the  hotel  clerk 
always  finds  one  room  left  for  the  late  arrival.  When 
the  latter  kicks  about  it,  when  he  is  leaving  next  day, 
because  it  was  on  the  fifth  floor,  and  was  furnished 
with  nothing  but  a  bed,  a  bar  of  soap  and  a  crack  in 
the  ceiling,  the  clerk  tells  him  that  if  he  had  only  been 
staying  another  day  he  could  have  had  an  excellent 
room — in  fact,  the  best  room  in  the  house — which 
would  be  vacated  after  breakfast,  by  a  gentleman  who 
was  leaving  on  the  noon  train.  To  our  certain  knowl- 
edge, the  gentleman  has  been  leaving  that  excellent — 
that  "  best  room  in  the  house,"  every  to-morrow  for  the 
last  twenty  years. 

The  hotel  clerk  is  said  to  be  distantly  related  to  the 
railroad  ticket  clerk,  but  this  must  be  a  mistake  having 
its  origin  in  the  fact  that  there  are  certain  traits  and 
atrocities  of  character  common  to  both.  The  hotel 
clerk  has  no  relations.  Not  one  man  in  a  thousand  can 
remember  ever  having  seen  a  hotel  clerk's  father  or  un- 
cle. If  we  were  asked  why  this  is  so,  we  could  no  more 
account  for  it  than  we  could  for  the  fact  that  the  cuckoo 
does  not  suckle  her  own  young. 

The  night  clerk  is  not  so  gorgeous  or  inclement  as  the 
day  clerk.  He  wears  a  smaller  finger-ring  and  a  larger 
boot.  His  duties  are  not  so  onerous  as  are  those  of  the 
day  clerk.  He  sleeps  in  a  chair  near  the  stove,  or  reads 
Lakeside  Library  novels  all  night,  and  his  most  impor- 
tant duty  is  to  wake  up  and  speed  the  parting  guest 
who  goes  off  on  the  morning  train. 


26  SKETCHES  EROM 

The  hotel  clerk  has  much  to  try  him,  and  perhaps  we 
would  find  many  excuses  for  what  we  consider  his  ex- 
asperating peculiarities,  if  we  stood  on  his  side  of  the 
register,  and  had  the  experience  of  how  it  feels  to  be  a 
target  for  the  grumbling,  the  fault-finding,  and  the  in- 
terrogatories of  the  average  traveler  who  lives  on  corn- 
bread  and  bacon  at  home,  but  howls  loud  and  long  be- 
cause he  does  not  get  turtle-soup  and  four  kinds  of  pie 
three  times  a  day  when  he  stops  at  a  hotel. 


THE    EARLY    BIRD 

Somebody  is  going  to  mutilate  Gilhooly  with  a  club 
yet,  if  he  is  not  careful.  A  few  nights  ago  he  was  re- 
turning home  from  an  oyster  supper  at  about  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  He  was  full  of  mischief  and 
other  intoxicating  beverages.  Stopping  at  a  drug  store 
on  Austin  avenue,  he  rang  the  night  bell,  and  was  ad- 
mitted by  the  clerk,  who  thought  it  must  be  a  case  of 
great  urgency. 

"  Give  me  dimesh  worth  of  toilet  shoap." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  disturb  me  at  this 
hour  of  the  morning  to  sell  you  a  piece  of  soap,  for 
which  there  is  no  immediate  necessity?" 

"  Jesh  so,  no  'mediate  neshessity,"  replied  Gilhooly, 
putting  a  dime  on  the  counter.  "  No  'mediate  neshes- 
sity at  all.  Jesh  keep  it  for  me.  I'll  jesh  drop  in  to- 
morrer  and  get  it  when  I  goesh  home  to  dinner.  Good- 
bye, Mishter  apop — apotheypop,  good-bye,  Mishter 
shopopecary." 

The  drug  clerk  kicked  him  twice  as  he  withdrew. 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr 


27 


THE     COW-BOY 


/*w*|^sr^ 


Have  you  seen  the  prairie  Centaur, 
Of  the  "  Kavey-yard  "  the  center, 
Of  his  horse  and  cows  the  mentor — 
As  it  were  ? 

With  a  firm  seat  in  the  saddle, 
He  will  ride  what  he  can  straddle, 
And  drink  whiskey  like  his  dad  will- 
On  a  "tare." 

A  sombrero  wide  his  hat  is. 
The  crown  open  like  a  lattice, 


28  SKETCHES  FROM 

A  coat  he'll  hardly  ev — that  is — 
Seldom  wear. 

And  his  blonde  mustache  he  dyes  it, 
'Till  you  could  not  recognize  it, 
And  he'd  varnish  it  and  size  it — 
If  he  dare. 

And  this  burly-headed  gent,  he, 
Just  now  aetat  one  and  twenty, 
Spends  his  money  free  and  plenty — 
And  he'll  swear. 

Then  ten  dollars,  he  will  lay  it, 
On  the  cards,  and  beat  your  lay-out, 
If  you  merely  try  to  play  it — 
On  the  square. 

When  sometimes  he  is  defiant, 
And  his  will  it  is  not  pliant, 
If  your  pistol  ain't  reliant — 
Have  a  care. 

When  the  cow-boy's  life  is  ended, 
'Cross  the  Styx  his  soul  they'll  send  it, 
For  he  never  has  depended — 
On  a  prayer. 


Although  the  cow-boy  is  undoubtedly  a  cow-catch- 
er, he  does  not  travel  on  a  railroad  train  when  he  catch- 
es cows,  but  on  the  back  of  a  pony.  The  cow-catcher 
on  the  locomotive  is  an  entirely  different  sort  of  insti- 
tution, but  it  is  just  as  careless  about  whose  cattle  it 
picks  up  as  the  cow-catcher  on  the  pony  is  said  to  be. 
When  the  cow-catcher  on  wheels  picks  up  a  cow  or  a 
yearling,  the  railroad  company  has  to  pay  three  or  four 
times  its  value ;  but  when  the  cow-boy  comes  across  a 


"  TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  29 

stray  maverick,  it  is  very  difficult  to  persuade  him  that 
it  did  not  belong  to  him  in  the  first  place. 

The  cow-boy  can  always  be  found  hid  under  a  large 
hat,  as  pictured  in  the  portrait  at  the  head  of  this  arti- 
cle. The  reason  he  wears  a  hat  of  this  size,  is  because 
no  larger  ones  are  made.  The  same  remark  applies  to 
his  spurs,  which  are  large  enough  to  be  mistaken  for 
the  spurs  of  a  mountain.  We  do  not  know  why  the 
cow-boy  always  leaves  his  swallow-tail  coat,  black 
stove-pipe  hat  and  kid  gloves  at  home  when  he  goes 
out  on  the  trail,  but,  perhaps,  he  is  afraid  he  might 
stampede  the  herd  if  he  undertook  to  head  them  off  in 
that  garb.  There  is  one  toy,  however,  which  the  cow- 
boy never  leaves  at  home  when  he  goes  to  Kansas,  and 
that  is  his  pistol.  He  uses  it  to  celebrate  the  Fourth  of 
July  with,  and  he  always  celebrates  the  great  National 
holiday  whenever  he  can  procure  the  materials  to  cele- 
brate with,  and  he  is  very  apt  to  procure  them  if  they 
are  on  the  place.  The  reason  the  cow-boy  celebrates 
the  great  natal  day  of  American  independence  so  much, 
is  because  he  is  overloaded  with  patriotism.  Traveling 
on  the  road,  without  an  almanac,  the  cow-boy  manages 
to  forget  what  the  day  of  the  month  is,  so,  to  be  sure, 
he  celebrates  the  day  whenever  he  gets  to  a  town.  If 
the  cow-boy  were  provided  with  almanacs,  so  that  he 
could  tell  when  to  celebrate  the  Fourth,  it  would  be  a 
good  idea,  and  perhaps  assist  in  removing  the  impres- 
sion that  the  cow-boy  drinks  whiskey  and  shoots  off  his 
pistol  from  other  than  patriotic  motives.  If  the  cow- 
bow  were  to  cease  celebrating  so  much,  his  breath 
would  not  be  as  strong  as  it  is.  It  is  so  strong,  occa- 
sionally, that  if  he  would  only  tie  a  slip  knot  in  the  end 
of  it,  he  could  rope  and  hold  a  steer  with  it.  He  often 
celebrates  the  glorious  Fourth  in  a  Kansas  town  and  in 


30 


SKETCHES    FROM 


the  middle  of  winter.  At  least  he  makes  it  so  hot  for 
everybody  in  the  town  that  the  citizens  think,  from  the 
sultriness,  that  July  cannot  be  very  far  off. 


THE     SOLEMN     BORE 


The  solemn  bore  is  un- 
like the  confidential  bore, 
in  that  he  never  winks, 
nor  punches  you  in  the 
ribs  ;  neither  does  he  pun- 
ish you  with  a  recital  of 
the  current  scandal  of  the 
neighborhood.  The  sol- 
emn bore's  chief  charac- 
eristics  are  dignity,  a  mo- 
notonous voice,  and  sta- 
tistics. He  usually  car- 
ries a  walking-stick  and 
abounds  in  large  feet. 
He  invariably  suffers 
from  some  disease  that 
has  puzzled  all  the  doc- 
tors, and  that  he  is  very 
proud  of,  although  he 
pretends  to  consider  it  a 
great  affliction.  He  nev- 
er tires  of  describing  the 
symptoms  of  the  disease 
and  his  manner  of  apply- 
ing his  favorite  remedy.  He  does  everything  by  rule, 
and  he  boasts  of  it.  When  he  undresses  he  folds  his 
trousers,  and  lays  a  brick  on  them  to  prevent  them  from 


"  TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  31 

bagging  at  the  knees.  It  takes  him  half  an  hour  to  ex- 
plain the  process,  but  he  never  grudges  the  time.  One 
of  the  solemn  bore's  strong  points  is  proverbs,  of  the 
"  early  to  bed,  early  to  rise "  brand,  and  he  believes, 
and  reiterates  his  belief,  that  the  whole  human  family  is 
going  rapidly  down  to  an  early  grave  because  it  will 
not  use  Graham  bread  for  breakfast,  and  refrain  from 
the  use  of  ice  water  at  dinner. 

But  it  is  in  statistics  he  shines.  He  rolls  such 
words  and  phrases  as  one  per  cent.,  per  capita,  like  ratio, 
acreage,  etc.,  like  a  sweet  morsel  under  his  tongue. 

The  solemn  bore  speaks  in  a  slow  and  ponderous  w^ay 
and  pays  very  little  attention  to  what  you  say ;  in  fact, 
he  prefers  to  do  most  of  the  talking  himself.  He 
speaks  of  the  good  old  times,  and  compares  them  with 
these  degenerate  days,  and  he  shakes  his  head  and  says 
he  is  afraid  to  think  of  what  the  future  has  in  store  for 
such  a  frivolous  people  as  we  have  become. 

The  solemn  bore  stays  with  you  longer  than  any  oth- 
er member  of  the  bore  family,  and  when  he  leaves,  it 
takes  you  all  the  rest  of  the  day  to  get  over  the  im- 
pression that  this  is  a  very  wicked  world,  and  that  it  is 
coming  to  a  Sodom-and-Gomorrah  end  very  soon. 

At  a  moment's  notice  he  can  give  you  the  voting  pop- 
ulation of  every  State  in  the  Union,  and  tell  the  major- 
ity that  elected  every  governor  of  the  State  since  years 
before  he  was  born  ;  and  when  he  comes  to  exports  and 
imports,  and  gets  talking  of  bullion,  and  bar  iron,  and 
breadstuffs,  he  is  the  personification  of  addition,  sub- 
traction, the  rule  of  three  and  vulgar  fractions  ;  and 
that  is  about  the  time  you  begin  to  wish  you  had  never 
been  born. 


32 


SKETCHES    FROM 


THE     TEXAS     COW. 


Mr.  Webster  says  that  the  cow  is  "a  quadruped 
whose  abundant  milk  furnishes  food  and  profit  to  the 
farmer."  Mr.  W.  does  not  give  the  cow  as  much  atten- 
tion as  she  deserves,  and  when  he  talks  of  abundant 
milk,  he  proves  beyond  all  question  that  he  is  densely 
ignorant  regarding  the  Texas  cow. 

There  are  several  kinds  of  cows ;  for  instance,  there 
is  the  town  cow,  a  very  enterprising  animal,  that  breaks 
into  the  front  garden  at  night  and  crowds  her  stomach 
with  valuable  shrubs  and  costly  tropical  plants,  and 
that  sleeps  on  the  sidewalk  in  conveniently  dark  places, 
where  people  can  fall  over  her  without  getting  out  ot 
their  way. 

Then  there  is  the  country  cow  that  you  see — in 
chromos — standing  meditatively  in  shallow  streams  or 


TEXAS  SIFTINGSr 


33 


pools  of  water  with  her  tail  furled  in  the  shape  of  a 
letter  S  over  her  back,  or  being  driven  home  in  the  twi- 
light along  shady  lanes  by  barefooted  boys  ;  that  same 
cow  that,  out  of  the  picture,  is  always  breaking  into  the 
corn  fields  and  being  chased  by  dogs  and  infuriated 
farmers. 

And  there  is  the  cow  with  the  crumpled  horn,  and 
the  ambitious  cow  whose  lunar  feat  is  recorded  in  the 
ancient  nursery  rhyme ;  but  more  important  than  any 
of  these  is  what  might  be  called  the  literary  cow — the 
one  that,  ornamented  with  fragments  of  the  English 
alphabet,  roams  over  the  Texas  prairies ;  she  has  no 
pedigree,  and  is  seldom  found  at  agricultural  shows  or 
stock  exhibitions.  She  is  built  in  the  Tudor  style  of 
architecture,  and  is  principally  composed  of  lean  rib 
roasts  and  soup  bones  attached  to  a  wide-spreading 
pair  of  horns.  Her  time  is  mostly  taken  up  in  eating 
grass  and  in  trying  to  lose  herself. 

A  Texas  cow,  when  she  is  new,  is  worth  from  %\o  to 
$15.  She  is  called  old  after  she  has  lived  eight  years, 
unless  her  enterprising  owner  files  the  wrinkles  off  her 
horns  ;  then  she  can  be  driven  to  town  and  sold  for  a 
new  cow  guaranteed  to  give  three  gallons  of  pure  milk 
a  day. 

As  the  Texas  cow,  raised  on  the  prairie,  is  seldom 
educated  up  to  three  gallons  a  day,  and  would  starve 
rather  than  eat  bran  or  slops,  the  city  man  finds  that 
he,  as  well  as  the  cow,  has  been  well  sold  ;  and  when 
his  wife  calls  him  an  old  fool,  and  says  that  she  told 
him  so  all  along,  he  goes  off  and  bribes  a  butcher  to 
take  the  cow  off  his  hands.  The  butcher  kills  her  and 
advertises  the  remains  as  "choice  corn  fed." 

There  are  millions  of  cows  in  Texas,  and  some  men 
own  more  than  100,000  head  of  cattle.     There  are  sev- 


34  SKETCHES  FROM 

eral  cattle  owners  who  each  brand  from  5,000  to  20,000 
calves  every  year.  The  owner  brands  his  calves  with 
either  the  initials  of  his  name  or  a  combination  of  let- 
ters, figures  and  hieroglyphics,  and  when  he  sells,  he 
puts  his  brand  on  a  fresh  place  on  the  animal ;  this  is 
called  counterbranding.  Then  the  new  owner  puts  his 
brand,  consisting  of  three  or  four  two-foot  letters,  on  a 
blank  space.  After  a  Texas  cow  has  been  sold  five  or 
six  times,  she  looks  as  if  a  sum  in  algebra  had  broken 
out  all  over  her.  There  are  two  kinds  of  branding- 
irons  and  two  modes  of  branding :  one  iron  is  of  the 
shape  of  the  letter  or  letters  forming  the  brand,  and, 
being  heated,  is  stamped  on  the  animal's  side  or  hip, 
and  held  there  until  it  burns  through  the  hair  and  al- 
most through  the  skin.  The  other,  called  a  running- 
brand,  is  a  long  piece  of  iron  curved  at  the  end.  With 
this,  the  curved  end  being  red  hot,  the  person  branding 
writes  the  brand  much  after  the  free  and  fluent  style  in 
which  shipping  clerks  mark  boxes.  In  the  most  com- 
mon mpde  of  branding,  the  animal  is  thrown  down  and 
the  head  held  to  the  ground  until  the  owner's  trade 
mark  is  blown  in  the  bottle,  as  it  were.  The  less  com- 
mon way  is  to  drive-  the  animal  into  a  narrow  passage 
called  a  chute,  just  wide  enough  for  it  to  squeeze 
through,  and  while  it  is  in  this  tight  place  it  is  cauter- 
ized. 

After  all  this  trouble  taken  by  man,  with  a  view  to 
improve  and  ornament  the  cow,  the  ungrateful  brute 
fails  to  show  any  appreciation  of  the  kindness,  and 
even  groans  and  kicks  when  the  artist  applies  the  iron,. 
So  dissatisfied  does  she  seem,  that  one  would  almost  be 
compelled  to  believe  she  does  not  care  to  receive  and 
circulate  the  English  alphabet.  There  is  no  enterprise 
about  a  cow,  anyhow,  except  in  chewing  up  the  family 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS. 


35 


underclothing,  and  in  the  matter  of  lifting   a   garden 
gate  off  its  hinges,  or  a  milkmaid  off  her  stool. 


THE     TEXAS     RED     ANT. 


There  are 
several  kinds 
of  ants  in 
Texas,  but  the 
red  one  comes 
most  into 
public  notice. 
Like  all  red 
headed  a  n  i  - 
mals,  this  ant 
is  of  a  V  e  r  y 
irascible  turn 
of  mind. 
When  angry, 
the  red  ant 
knows  no 
bounds  to  its 
rage,  and  re- 
spects no  per- 
son or  part  of 
a  person.  It 
shows  its  tem- 
per most  at 
picnics,  but  it  has  been  even  known  to  bite  a  good  lit- 
tle boy  on  his  way  to  Sunday-school.  Except,  perhaps, 
the  wasp,  the  red  ant  is  the  least  amiable  of  insects. 
There  are   a  great  many  different  sizes  of  ants,   as- 


^6  SKETCHES  FROM 

sorted  as  if  manufactured  to  suit  the  different  tastes  of 
different  people ;  but  the  sting  of  the  smallest  of  them 
is  large  enough  to  satisfy  the  most  captious ;  at  least, 
the  party  who  gets  stung  is  usually  willing,  in  the  heat 
of  the  moment,  to  swear  that  it  is  as  large  as  a  tenpen- 
ny  nail.  The  most  common  and  unpopular  kind  of  an 
ant  is  an  unhappy  medium  between  extremes.  Al- 
though he  does  not  live  and  have  his  nest  in  the  busy 
haunts  of  men,  he  is  disposed  to  be  rather  familiar  at 
times.  To  begin  at  the  front  end  of  the  ant,  he  has 
two  feelers  growing  out  of  the  bumps  of  mirthfulness 
on  his  large,  full  forehead.  These  feelers  are  used  in 
shaking  hands  with  other  ants. 

Like  the  man  who  has  his  quarrel  just,  the  red  ant  is 
doubly  armed,  having  for  a  mouth  a  pair  of  pincers 
that  will  bite  off  the  corner  of  an  iron  safe.  At  the 
southern  end  of  him  Providence  has  provided  him  with 
a  javelin  not  unlike  the  hip-pocket  weapon  of  the  wasp, 
and  which  he  uses  with  both  celerity  and  liberality  when 
occasion  offers.  At  barbecues  and  picnics,  when  man 
tramples  on  the  rights  and  property — the  hearths  and 
homes  of  the  ant,  that  insect  is  very  apt  to  take  part  in 
a  joint  discussion  ;  and  usually  a  delegation  of  ants, 
with  a  reprehensible  lack  of  modesty,  will  climb  up- 
ward under  the  clothing  of  the  seeker  after  rural  joys, 
and  seizing  a  piece  of  him  in  their  unmerciful  jaws, 
shake  and  tug  at  it  as  the  boarder  does  in  his  efforts  to 
masticate  the  spring  chicken  of  the  city  boarding- 
house.  Having  securely  anchored  his  head,  the  ant 
humps  himself,  like  unto  an  irate  cat  on  a  fence,  and 
then  drives  several  yards  of  envenomed  sting  into  the 
leg  of  the  unsuspecting  excursionist,  who,  for  a  moment 
afterward,  is  undecided  whether  he  should  climb  a  tree 
or  take  off  his  clothes  and  go  in  swimming.     He  usual- 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS. 


37 


ly  compromises  by  dancing  the  Can-can  and  using  lan- 
guage not  intended  for  publication,  but  merely  given  as 
a  guarantee  of  good  faith. 

The  way  a  single  red  ant  can  make  a  lazy  man  get 
up  and  move  around  is  truly  wonderful.  Solomon 
must  have  had  such  a  scene  in  his  mind  when  he  told 
the  sluggard  to  go  to  the  ant. 

The  ant  does  not  work  during  the  winter  months, 
but  remains  at  home  and  sits  by  the  fire  all  day  telling 
lies  about  the  peculiar  winters  they  used  to  have  when 
he  first  came  to  Texas.  It  was  for  a  long  time  a  dis- 
puted point  as  to  whether  ants  worked  at  night,  until  a 
scientist  from  Boston  received  light  and  other  experi- 
ence on  the  subject,  when  he  was  visiting  Austin  last 
year  for  the  benefit  of  his  health.  He  procured  the 
services  of  the  hotel  clerk  to  aid  him  in  his  researches. 
Armed  with  a  walking-cane  and  accompanied  by  a  lan- 
tern, they  went  out  one  night  and  found  an  ant  hill. 
The  scientist  brought  an  eye-glass  to  bear  on  the  ant 
hill  at  short  range,  while  the  genial  hotel  clerk  stirred 
up  the  ants'  nest  with  the  cane.  Soon  the  doubts  of 
the  scientist  as  to  the  late  working  hours  of  the  ant 
were  removed.  When  he  returned  to  his  room,  upward 
of  twenty  healthy  specimens  of  an  ant,  with  a  Latin 
name  a  yard  long,  were  removed  from  his  scientific  an- 
atomy with  a  pair  of  tongs. 

'>-^0<2^ 

HE    HAD    JUST    HAD    ONE. 

"Don't  you  want  a  glass?"  asked  the  man  who  rents 
opera  glasses  at  the  Austin  opera  house  of  a  country- 
man from  Onion  creek. 

"  Don't  care  if  I  do  take  a  glass  after  the  show  is  over, 
but  ain't  thirsty  now;  just  had  one." 


SS  SKETCHES  EROiM 


POWER    OF    THE    PRESS    IN    TEXAS. 


HOW  A  TEXAS  EDITOR  TRAVELED  ON  A  RAILROAD  PASS. 


The  night  train  on  the  Santa  Fe  road  had  jusfarrived 
at  Milano  Junction,  and  the  passengers  were  changing 
cars.  The  International  and  Great  Northern  train  was 
waiting,  and  the  passengers  by  the  Santa  Fe  were 
climbing  on  board,  and  among  them  was  a  shabbily 
dressed  young  man  wearing  a  black  slouch  hat,  and  a 
mustache  to  match.  The  latter  was  dyed,  however.  It 
was  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  the  proceedings 
were  carried  on  by  colored  lanterns,  that  gave  some 
people  the  blues  and  made  others  look  green.  The 
young  man  referred  to  was  about  to  climb  up  into  the 
car,  when  the  brakeman  laid  an  official  hand  on  his  arm, 
and  asked  him  to  show  his  ticket. 

"Didn't  you  never  get  to  see  a  ticket  before?  Do 
you  think  I  am  traveling  around  over  the  country  hunt- 
ing up  lantern-jawed  brakesmen  to  show  them  tickets? 
Why  don't  you  go  to  the  ticket  office  and  ask  the  ticket 
agent  to  let  you  look  at  a  ticket  if  you  want  to  see  one 
so  badly?  Just  mention  my  name  to  him  and  he'll  give 
you  a  handful.  Do  you  think  I  am  the  advance  agent 
of  a  variety  show,  or  a  circus,  or  a  female  minstrel 
troupe,  that  you  have  to  bore  me  for  a  ticket  ?  Why 
don't  you  save  up  your  wages  and  buy  tickets  if  you 
want  to  amuse  yourself?  Why  don't  you  ask  Jay  Gould 
to  furnish  you  with  circus  tickets  ?  He  can  afford  it  ; 
I  can't." 

There  was  a  crowd  trying  to  push  into  the  car,  and  in 
the  confusion  that  particular  tourist  was  lost  sight  of. 


TEXAS  SIFTINGSr 


39 


How  he  ever  got  into  the  car  is  a  profound  mystery, 
but  very  likely  he  crawled  under  the  train  and  got  in 
from  the  opposite  side.  At  any  rate,  it  is  a  matter  of 
history  that  when  the  train  pulled  out  of  Milano  Junc- 
tion for  Austin,  that  very  same  young  man  who  had 
such  a  flow  of  language  was  on  board.  He  was  not 
only  on  board,  but  as  fast  asleep  as  if  he  had  traveled 
all  night  in  that  very  car.  Most  of  the  other  passen- 
gers were  asleep  in  various  picturesque  attitudes,  but 
none  of  them  seemed  to  sleep  quite  so  soundly  as  the 
man  who  had  not  got  into  the  sheepfold  through  the 
door,  but  had  climbed  over  some  other  way.  He  had 
evidently  nothing  on  his  mind  to  worry  him.  He  look- 
ed as  if  even  an  invitation  to  take  a  drink  might  not 
have  aroused  him. 

Presently  the  conductor  came  along.  He  was  a  tall, 
rawboned  man,  with  a  big  nose  and  a  still  bigger  mus- 
tache. He  wore  a  green  lantern  and  a  very  solemn  ex- 
pression of  countenance.  He  went  through  the  car 
hunting  up  the  guilty  parties  who  had  got  into  the  car 
at  Milano,  intending  to  furnish  them  with  an  opportu- 
nity to  contribute  a  trifle  each  to  assist  the  company  in 
extending  their  line  to  the  Rio  Grande.  Presently  he 
came  to  the  sleeper.  He  held  up  the  lantern  and  gazed 
with  a  perplexed  look  on  the  green  but  matured  cheek 
of  the  dreamer.  Then  the  conductor  smiled  a  sardonic, 
frozen  smile  that  would  have  made  a  dead  man  feel 
uneasy,  and  reaching  over,  he  shook  the  slumberer,  and 
said,  in  a  hoarse  voice  : 

"  TICKET  ! " 

But  the  Bohemian,  for  such  he  was,  dreamed  on.  At 
last  he  rubbed  his  eyes  and  asked  if  this  was  Austin. 
The  conductor  once  more  brought  up  the  ticket  ques- 
tion. 


40  SKETCHES  FROM 

"  Ticket !  why,  I  have  got  a  pass.  I  showed  it  to  you 
two  hours  ago.  Don't  worry  me,"  and  the  drowsy  man 
dozed  off  again  and  was  fast  asleep  in  less  than  a  min- 
ute, but  the  grim-visaged  conductor  reached  over  and 
shook  him  as  a  terrier  does  a  rat.  That  woke  him  up, 
but  he  did  not  wake  up  in  good  humor. 

"  This  is  the  goll  darndest  road  in  Texas,  and  it  ought 
to  be  closed  out.  A  gentleman  can't  have  a  minute's 
rest.  What  in  the  world  did  you  shake  me  for  ?  Do 
you  suppose  that  I  have  been  taking  laudanum  by  mis- 
take, and  have  to  be  shook  up  and  walked  about  by 
the  arm  ?  Is  that  what  the  railroad  company  pays  you 
ten  dollars  a  month  for,  or  are  you  just  hintin'  you 
want  me  to  treat  you  ?  If  you  want  a  drink  why  don't 
you  come  out  like  a  man  and  say  so  ?  Wait — till — we 
— get — to — Austin — and  I'll — set-'em-up,"  and  he  was 
about  to  doze  off  once  more,  when  the  conductor  bawl- 
ed : 

"  LEMME  SEE  YOUR  PASS  !  " 

He  woke  up  with  a  jerk.  He  looked  in  his  pocket. 
It  was  gone.  He  took  off  his  hat  and  looked  in  it.  No 
pass.  He  looked  under  the  seat,  and  then  out  of  the 
window  at  the  trees  which  were  visible  by  the  early 
light,  to  see  if  his  pass  was  there.  Then  he  looked  sus- 
piciously at  the  passengers,  and  finally  he  said  to  the 
conductor  : 

"You  never  gave  me  back  that  pass." 

"  Never  saw  you  or  your  pass  before.  What's  your 
name?"  and  the  conductor  took  out  a  long,  narrow 
book,  and  began  to  study. 

"  Let  me  hold  your  lantern,  colonel,"  said  the  rep- 
resentative of  the  press,  trying  to  look  over  the  list  of 
names  in  the  book. 

"  Bill   Snort,   editor  and    proprietor    of    the    Crosby 


''TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  41 

county  Clai'ion  and  Fa^-mers  Vindicator^  a  weekly  jour- 
nal devoted  to  the  prosperity  of  Texas,  and  the  advance- 
ment of  the  great  railroad  interests  of  the  State.  The 
Clarion  and  Farmer  s  Vindicator  is  also  a  great  religious 
journal." 

"  No  pass  was  ever  issued  to  any  such  person." 

Bill  Snort  laughed  scornfully,  and  said: 

"  I  reckon  that's  all  you  know  about  Jay  Gould.  I 
expect  you  will  make  a  very  good  conductor  in  time, 
but  you  ain't  the  kind  of  a  man  he  is  going  to  intrust 
with  his  business  plans.  Jay  don't  keep  you  post- 
ed. Just  you  write  him  a  line,  and  ask  if  he  didn't 
give  William  B.  Snort  a  pass  for  valuable  considera- 
tion." 

''Three  dollars  and  six  bits  is  the  fare  to  Austin." 

''Cash?" 

"  Cash  down,  quick,  or  I'll  bounce  you  off  at  the  next 
station  we  come  to." 

"  If  you  are  going  to  put  me  off,  I  want  you  to  put 
me  right  back  where  you  got  me.  You  can  either  go 
back  to  Milano  right  now,  or  I'll  stay  on  the  train  and 
come  back  with  you  to-morrow  from  Austin.  Just  suit 
yourself.  It's  not  my  funeral.  Where,  Mister,  can  I 
tap  Jay  Gould  by  wire  ? " 

The  impudence  of  Bill  rather  amused  the  grim-look- 
ing conductor,  while  it  absolutely  convulsed  even  the 
passengers  who  were  fast  asleep. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  Bill,  "  never  mind  the  mon- 
ey. I'll  give  you  a  puff  in  the  Clarion.  I'll  say  what  a 
gentlemanly  conductor  you  are,  and  how  passengers 
travel  back  and  forward  over  the  road  just  for  the  fun 
of  talking  to  you,  and  I'll  send  Jay  a  marked  copy. 
Perhaps  he  will  promote  you,  and  take  you  into  the 
firm  and  give  you  a  railroad  of  your  own." 


42  SKETCHES    EROM 

The  conductor  said  he  was  about  tired  of  that  mon- 
keying, and  to  hand  out  the  money. 

"  I'd  just  as  lief  as  not  pay  the  money,  only  I  know 
Jay  will  get  on  his  ear  and  make  some  railroad  changes 
if  he  hears  of  it,  and  he  will  be  mighty  apt  to  hear  of 
it.  I  only  want  to  give  you  a  chance  to  save  yourself. 
If  Gould  fires  you  out,  the  only  railroad  in  Texas  that 
will  employ  you  will  be  some  street  railroad,  and  you 
won't  have  no  chance  to  steal  a  blamed  cent,  for  con- 
ductors are  not  allowed  to  handle  the  fare  at  all  in 
street  cars.     That  would  about  break  you  up." 

"  If  you  put  anything  about  me  in  your  blamed  pa- 
per, the  coroner  will  think  a  freight  train  ran  over  you 
lengthways,  I'll  punch  your  head  for  you.  Now  you 
hand  out  that  three  dollars  and  six  bits,  or  out  you  go!  " 

Seeing  that  the  conductor  meant  business,  Mr.  Snort 
reached  down  in  his  clothes  and  brought  out  a  roll  of 
greenbacks,  remarking: 

"  Some  smart  people  think  editors  never  have  any 
money.  Here  is  a  five-dollar  bill.  I  would  have  paid 
long  ago,  only  I  sorter  liked  your  looks,  and  I  didn't 
want  you  and  Jay  to  lock  horns,  for  fear  you  might 
hurt  him,  he  being  an  intimate  friend  of  mine.  He  has 
a  big  family  depending  on  him  for  their  daily  bread, 
and  I  hate  to  see  anything  happen  them.  Take  your 
money,  I  reckon  you'll  be  buying  yourself  some  fresh 
clothes  pretty  soon." 

The  conductor  was  too  mad  to  talk,  so  he  passed  on, 
and  'the  man  who  wields  the  Archimedean  lever  in 
Crosby  County,  put  his  feet  up  on  the  seat  in  front,  and 
began  to  converse  with  the  other  passengers. 

"  Darn  a  State,  anyhow,  where  the  press  has  no  influ- 
ence. No  wonder  it  don't  boom.  Three  dollars  and 
six  bits  gone  to  swell  up  that  conductor  with  whiskey 


"  TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  43 

and  crackers.  But  it's  not  going  to  come  out  of  my 
pocket.  Somebody  will  have  to  bleed  for  this.  There 
is  one  comfort  about  it.  You  all  saw  me  pay  my  way. 
The  Crosby  County  Clarion  is  the  only, paper  in  fhe 
State  that  is  independent  of  railroad  monopolies.  We 
fight  to  the  bitter  end,  and  the  people  know  it.  I  have 
paid  my  fare,  and  nobody  in  this  car  will  sneer  at  me, 
and  take  me  for  a  member  of  the  legislature.  That's 
worth  a  thousand  dollars  to  a  gentleman  of  refinement 
like  myself." 

He  paused  to  catch  his  breath,  and  then  placing  his 
finger  on  the  breast  of  a  drummer,  who  was  speechless 
with  admiration  at  the  cheek  of  the  Texas  journalist,  he 
asked:  "  Isn't  that  a  flask?"  The  drummer  held  it  out 
to  him.  After  taking  a  pull,  he  put  it  in  his  own  side 
pocket,  and  looking  around,  asked: 

"  Ain't  we  going  to  smoke?  Ain't  any  of  us  going  to 
pass  around  the  cigars?  What  sort  of  a  crowd  is  this, 
anyhow,  that  tries  to  bulldoze  the  press?" 

Nobody  responded,  so  he  reached  in  his  own  vest 
pocket,  and  produced  the  stump  of  a  cigar.  He  sub- 
sided until  the  transfer  agent  asked  him  if  he  had  any 
baggage. 

"Baggage?  why,  of  course,  I've  got  baggage.  Do  I 
look  like  an  irresponsible  person?  Why  don't  you  ask 
me  if  I  have  any  clothes  on.  Can't  you  see  for  yourself 
that  I  am  a  whole  clothing  store?  I  have  so  much  bag- 
gage that  there  was  no  room  for  it  in  the  baggage  car, 
so  I  had  to  charter  a  freight  train.  Call  for  the* bill  of 
lading  at  the  hotel." 

When  we  last  saw  him  he  was  in  a  grocer's  delivery 
wagon  on  his  way  to  call  on  the  Governor. 


44 


SKETCHES    FROM 


A     MODEL     VISITOR. 


A  FEW  days  ago,  Mr. 
Lawler,  of  Williamson 
County,  paid  the  sanc- 
tum of  Texas  Si f tings 
a  friendly  visit.  It  is 
not  unusual  for  us  to  be 
thus  honored.  Almost 
every  day  some  polite 
gentleman  calls  in  to 
see  us  with  a  bill  to  col- 
lect or  some  other  testi- 
monial of  regard.  Mr. 
Lawler,  however,  came 
on  a  different  mission. 
We  desire  to  call  atten- 
tion to  him.  We  desire 
other  visitors,  and  those  who  expect  to  become  visitors, 
to  model  on  him,  for  he  is  the  kind  of  an  intruder  we 
want  to  see  frequently.  Such  disturbers  as  Mr.  Lawler 
interrupt  us  very  agreeably.  For  the  information  of  all 
who  visit  newspaper  offices,  we  will  first  tell  what  he 
did  not  do. 

He  did  not  put  his  feet  upon  the  table  and  tamper 
with  the  exchanges.  He  did  not  give  us  a  mile  and  a 
half  of  advice  how  to  make  the  paper  populat"  with  the 
masses.  This  alone  made  us  look  on  him  in  the  light 
of  a  sainted  angel.  He  did  not  startle  us  with  a  new 
joke  that  he  claimed  to  have  originated  last  week,  but 
which  we  remembered  to  have  heard  in  a  circus  thirty 


TEXAS    SI F  TINGS. 


45 


years  ago.  Neither  did  Mr.  Lawler  tell  us  anything 
about  Sam  Houston  and  the  early  history  of  Texas,  or 
about  his  having  shot  a  deer,  away  back  in  1840,  on  the 
spot  where  the  capitol  now  stands.  The  failure  of 
Major  Lawler  to  commit  any  of  these  outrages  impels 
us  to  put  him  in  nomination  for  governor,  which  we 
hereby  do. 

And  now  we  propose  to  state  precisely  just  what  Col, 
Lawler  did. 

The  first  thing  this  noble-hearted  friend  did  was  to 
go  away  at  the  expiration  of  ten  minutes  after  he  enter- 
ed the  office.  As  soon  as  he  entered  he  drew  out  two 
dollars,  did  this  nature's  nobleman,  this  high-toned 
Southern  gentleman,  Gen.  Lawler.  and  renewed  his  sub- 
scription which  had  not  yet  expired,  remarking  that 
Sif  tings  was  the  very  best  paper  in  Texas.  Yes,  that's 
just  what  this  heaven-born  old  Texan,  Gen  Lawler,  said. 
Then  he  produced  a  bottle  from  a  basket,  and  proceed- 
ed to  cheer  up  the  Sifters  with  the  contents,  remarking 
once  more  that  he  was  an  admirer  of  the  paper,  which 
deserved  to  be  framed  in  gold.  The  contents  of  the 
bottle  was  not  the  vile  stuff  called  "  home-made  mus- 
tang wine.'  with  which  old  grangers  disorganize  the 
internal  economy  of  inexperienced  journalists,  but  was 
ice  cold  beer. 

After  this  seraphic  old  hero,  Gen.  Lawler,  had 
drunk  a  glass  to  the  prosperity  of  Texas  Siftings^ 
amid  the  blushes  of  the  editors,  he  said  he  would 
not  think  of  occupying  more  of  our  valuable  time,  and 
bade  us  farewell,  but  not  before  he  had  produced  a 
second  bottle,  which  he  forced  on  us,  with  an  injunction 
to  drink  it  as  soon  as  we  got  lonesome  or  thirsty,  both 
of  which  mental  and  bodily  sensations  we  began  to  ex- 
perience as  soon  as  our  generous  friend  was  outside  the 


46  SKETCHES    FROM 

door,  and  not  likely  to  return  to  get  any  of  it — the  beer, 
we  mean. 

Now  visitors  know  how  we  are  to  be  conciliated.  It 
should  be  mentioned,  however,  that  there  is  no  inten- 
tion of  limiting  their  enthusiasm.  If  instead  of  two 
bottles  of  beer  Gen.  Lawler  had  brought  two  kegs,  that 
w^ould  not  have  diminished  our  high  regard  for  him.  If 
he  had  brought  in  a  few  boxes  of  cigars,  even  that  would 
not  have  lessened  our  admiration  for  his  many  good 
qualities  of  heart  and  head. 

Gen.  Lawler's  past  life  has  been  blameless  as  far  as 
we  know,  except  that  he  owned  up  to  being  personally 
intimate  with  Nat  Q.  Henderson,  of  the  Georgetown 
Record^  but  those  who  know  Nat  will  readily  understand 
how  a  man  who  carries  bottled  beer  about  with  him 
could  hardly  help  being  rather  intimate  with  him  so 
long  as  the  beer  lasted. 

— c^<K>2^^2>Oe-^^ — 
THE    RECKLESS    L O C AL    R E P O RT E R. 


The  yearning  of  Americans  after  titles  has  often  been 
very  properly  ridiculed.  If  a  man  has  never  been  on 
the  bench  since  he  was  a  school  boy,  unless  it  was  on 
the  mourner's  bench  in  the  recorder's  court  for  being 
drunk  and  disorderly,  he  is  in  more  danger  than  almost 
anybody  else  of  being  called ''judge."  If  a  man  has 
been  gifted  with  sufficient  strategic  ability  to  keep  out 
of  the  late  attempt  to  destroy  the  United  States  govern- 
ment, that  man  is  liable  to  go  through  life  with  "  col- 
onel "  or  "  major  "  in  front  of  his  name.  The  best  way 
would  be  to  make  the  laws  apply  to  everybody  who 
forges  complimentary  titles.  For  this  nonsense  the 
press  is  largely  responsible.     There  is  a  disposition  on 


"  TEXAS     SIFTINGSr  a.^ 

the  part  of  local  reporters  to  write  down  every  man 
"general"  or  ^-'colonel"  who  happens  to  brighten  up 
the  reportorial  horizon  with  a  cheap  cigar  or  a  bottle  of 
sour  wine.  The  readers  take  their  cue  from  the  news- 
paper, and  the  consequence  is  that  when  men  are  sen- 
tenced to  the  penitentiary  or  arrested  for  taking  clothes 
off  a  line,  the  judge  and  the  constable  address  them  as 
"  general,"  "  judge,"  "  colonel,"  or  whatever  may  be  the 
stigma  that  attaches  to  their  names. 

The  Texas  papers,  in  particular,  have  another  bad 
habit  they  might  advantageously  shuffle  off.  If  a  little 
one  horse  corner  erocer  finds  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the 
faber-pusher  he  is  denounced  through  the  press  as  a 
merchant  prmce.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  report- 
ers who  are  so  liberal  in  conferring  princely  titles  have 
a  very  much  muddled-up  idea  as  to  what  kind  of  coffee- 
mill  a  prince  really  is.  A  real  prince  never  slaps  a  re- 
porter on  the  back  and  calls  him  Bob,  or  Dick,  or  what- 
ever other  name  his  sponsors  in  baptism  have  i3estowed 
upon  him.  A  bona  fide  prince  never  sits  in  his  shirt 
sleeves  in  front  of  his  store  and  squirts  tobacco  juice 
through  his  front  teeth.  A  real  prince  is  ahvays  dressed 
in  a  most  gorgeous  military  uniform,  with  a  big  silver 
star  as  big  as  a  saucer  on  his  breast,  to  let  people  know 
that  he  is  the  prince,  and  no  mistake.  A  prince  is  al- 
ways calm,  reserved,  dignified,  and  surrounded  by  a 
glittering  staff.  If  a  newspaper  man  were  to  run  up  to 
that  kind  of  a  prince  and  ask  him  for  a  pound  of  cheese 
and  crackers  on  ninety  days'  credit,  half-a-dozen  dukes, 
counts,  earls,  and  like  small  fry  would  telephone  for  a 
policeman  to  show  the  journalist  the  road  to  the  lunatic 
asylum.     There  is  no  such  thing  as  a  merchant  prince. 

The  Texas  journalist  also  persists  in  calling  every 
Stockman  who  brands  all  the  calves  in  his  neighborhood 


48  SKETCHES    FROM 

a  cattle  king.  No  real  king  ever  wore  an  old  slouch 
hat  and  lived  on  cornbread  and  coffee.  The  real  king 
sits  upon  a  glittering  throne,  such  as  you  see  in  circus 
processions,  holding  a  golden  sceptre  like  a  policeman's 
club,  in  his  hand,  and  a  royal  crown  on  his  head.  The 
king  of  diamonds  is  a  pretty  fair  likeness  of  a  highborn 
sovereign.  Now,  what  is  there  about  an  alleged  cattle 
potentate  that  justifies  the  reporter  in  dubbing  him  with 
the  title  of  king? 

But  the  most  serious  charge  we  have  to  make  against 
the  average  reporter  is  the  kind  of  marriage  notice  that 
is  sprung  on  the  unfortunate  couple  by  the  local  re- 
porter. It  is  an  undeniable  fact  that  what  are  called 
society  people,  like  the  angels  in  Heaven,  are  neithef 
married  nor  given  in  marriage.  There  is  a  gi*eat  deal 
of  buggy  riding  but  comparatively  little  pushing  about 
of  baby  carriages.  There  is  no  end  to  pic-nicking,  moon- 
light rambles,  but  very  few  bridal  tours  among  fashion- 
able people.  There  is  a  great  deal  of  skirmishing  along 
the  line,  but  no  regular  engagement.  And  alV  this  hesi- 
tancy is  occasioned  by  the  dread  of  a  cheerful  send-off 
by  the  local  reporter. 

We  once  knew  a  local  reporter,  in  a  Texas  city,  who 
materially  reduced  the  census  by  his  flattering  marriage 
notices.  He  was  not  satisfied  with  the  usual  twaddle 
about  "  the  fair  and  lovely  bride,"  "  the  noble-looking 
groom,"  and  "  the  high  contracting  parties,"  but  he 
would  invariably  wind  up  the  notice  with  a  few  verses 
of  poetry.  It  did  not  make  a  particle  of  difference  to 
him  what  kind  of  poetry  it  was.  He  had  a  dictionary 
of  poetical  quotations  at  hand,  and  would  chop  off  a 
piece  at  random.  Occasionally  it  fitted,  but  sometimes 
the  verse  reminded  one  of  Sancho  Panza's  proverbs 
dragged  in   backward  by  the  tail,     On  the  occasion  of 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  49 

the  nuptial  of  a  well-known  doctor,  he  wound  up  the 
notice  with  Longfellow's  familiar  verse  beginning: 

"There  is  a  reaper,  whose  name  is  Death." 
The  doctor  came  very  near  gathering  in  that  local 
reporter.  On  another  occasion,  where  a  young  man, 
who  had  been  very  fast,  reformed  and  got  married,  the 
local  reporter  seized  his  dictionary  of  classical  quota- 
tions and  made  him  happy  with  the  verse  from  Gray's 
Elegy  in  a  Country  Church  Yard,  beginning: 

"  No  further  seek  his  frailties  to  disclose." 
Such  marriage  notices  kept  people  from  adorning 
their  necks  with  the  marriage  yoke.  It  was  useless  to  at- 
tempt to  modify  his  zeal.  Men  about  to  get  married 
would  beg  him  with  tears  in  their  eyes  to  treat  them  with 
silent  contempt,  but  as  soon  as  the  wine  and  cake  began 
to  tell  on  his  reportorial  stomach,  in  one  wild  outburst  of 
gratitude,  he  would  perpetrate  half  a  column  of  inspired 
idiocy.  Occasionally  some  desperate  man  would  fail 
to  send  the  usual  cake  and  wine,  and  then  was  startled 
by  reading  that  the  bride's  mother  was  a  servant  girl 
but  rose  to  her  present  position  by  industry  and  saving 
and  that  the  bridegroom's  father  is  the  only  one  of  four 
brothers  who  escaped  the  penitentiary. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  the  recklessness  with 
which  the  newspaper  man  writes  up  marriage  notices 
has  much  to  do  with  the  unwillingness  of  fashionable 
young  men  and  maidens  to  get  married.  Some  people 
say  that  the  real  cause  is  the  inability  of  the  fashion- 
able young  wife  to  get  along  with  an  expensive  colored 
cook  lady,  a  colored  wash  lady  and  perhaps  a  nurse 
lady,  not  to  speak  of  her  "  ma."  We  nearly  over-looked 
that  venerable  obstacle.  Then,  too,  they  say  fashion- 
able hats,  and  cotton,  and  paint,  cost  like  the  very  mis- 


50 


SKETCHES  EROM 


chief.  These  depressing  influences  may  have  some 
effect  in  discouraging  marriages,  but  the  real  Jonah  is 
the  reckless  local  reporter. 


THE    SIFTERS    SEEK    RELAXATION    AND    GO 
GUNNING    FOR    QUAIL. 


W  E  have  a. 
friend  who  lives 
in  the  country 
a  few  miles 
from  Austin. 
He  is  a  farmer 
— one  of  those 
kind  of  agricul- 
turalists who 
earn  their  bread 
by  the  sweat  of 
the  hired  man's 
brow.  His 
horny  hands 
are  not  the  re- 
sult of  intimate 
association 
with  a  hoe,  but 
are  acquired  by 
hauling  big  fish 
out  of  the  creek, 
and  carrying 
home  game 
bags  full  of  snipe,  and  partridge,  and  ducks.  He  comes 
in  to  see  us  once  in  a  while  and  tells  us  fish  stories,  and 


V^ 


/} 


mi''^  f//^^'^^-^'^ 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  51 

tries  to  discourage  us  from  our  task  of  moulding  public 
opinion  by  describing  the  pleasures  of  rural  life;  the 
delights  of  raising  cotton  on  the  uplands  and  cain 
among  the  game  birds  in  the  valleys;  the  joyful  glee  of 
farming  with  negro  renters  "on  the  shares,"  and  the 
unalloyed  felicity  and  hilarity  of  lying  on  one's  back  in 
the  sylvan  shades  of  Onion  creek  and  drinking  butter- 
milk. 

This  friend  of  ours — for  convenience  sake,  we  will 
call  him  Tiff  Johnson,  because  that  is  his  name — has  an 
accomplice  in  the  person  of  a  wicked  brother,  who  aids 
and  abets  him  in  his  unholy  practice  of  making  poor 
city  editors  dissatisfied  with  their  lot,  and  causing  them 
to  yearn  for  the  tranquility  of  the  rural  precincts  where 
newspaper  exchanges  cease  from  troubling  and  the 
weary  editor  may  have  rest.  He  dropped  in  a  few  days 
ago,  and,  after  telling  us  about  something  that  happen- 
ed to  a  bow  that  was  never  unbent,  suggested  that  we 
needed  a  day's  rest,  and  invited  us  to  go  out  to  his 
place  and  shoot  quail.  We  intimated  that  we  did  not 
think  that  prancing  over  corn  rows  all  day  would  be 
what  might  be  called  a  rest.  He  said  that  we  would 
not  need  to  go  into  the  corn  fields  at  all,  that  usually 
quail  stayed  in  corn  fields,  but  that  this  year  they  were 
so  plenty  that  the  corn  fields  would  not  hold  them,  and 
you  could  see  them  everywhere  oozing  out  of  the  cracks 
in  the  fences  and  find  them  all  over  the  prairies.  On 
this  assurance  we  consented  to  spend  the  next  day  (last 
Friday)  unbending  ourselves  and  slaughtering  quail. 

To  this  end  we  rented  two  breech-loading  guns,  and 
fifty  rounds  of  deadly  cartridges  for  each  gun. 

The  Sifter  who  some  eighteen  years  ago  assisted  in 
discouraging  the  Union  army,  by  guarding  a  camp-fire 
down  at  Indianola,  was  supposed    to  be   an  excellent 


52  SKETCHES  FROM 

shot — at  least  he  had  acquired  that  reputation  from  the 
stories  he  told  of  marching  around  in  gore  during  the 
war. 

The  other  Sifter,  who  was  once  an  Irishman  by  pro- 
fession, never  had  had  any  practice  in  shooting,  except 
at  landlords,  and  did  not  have  much  confidence  in  his 
skill  in  shooting  on  the  wing  ;  but  was  sure  that  he 
could  make  a  line  shot  on  a  quail,  if  he  could  get  him 
on  the  ground  and  creep  up  on  him  from  behind  a 
fence.  However,  we  were  both  enthusiastic,  and  went 
to  bed  full  of  determination  to  let  no  guilty  creature, 
with  feathers  on  it,  escape.  The  writer  had  a  dreadful 
dream.  He  dreamed  that  he  was  surrounded  by  a  co- 
vey of  fierce  quail.  They  were  forming  a  circle  around 
him.  He  was  unable  to  move  hand  or  foot.  He  saw 
in  his  dream  his  faithful  gun  lift  up  one  paw,  as  if 
there  was  a  thorn  in  it,  while  his  tail  became  as  rigid 
and  pointed  as  the  finger  of  scorn.  At  this  critical  mo- 
ment, when  hope  seemed  dead  and  escape  impossible, 
the  other  Sifter  appeared  on  the  scene,  and  bringing 
his  double-barreled  dog  to  his  shoulder,  he  fired.  Just 
then  the  writer  awoke,  and  found  his  wife  slamming 
him  on  the  ear,  trying  to  awaken  him  that  he  might 
start  early  on  his  errand  of  slaughter.  The  sun  was 
just  peering  above  the  eastern  horizon,  and  the  morn- 
ing dew  would  have  been  on  the  grass — only  that  dew 
does  not  fall  in  Western  Texas — as  we  started.  After 
a  drive  of  some  six  miles,  we  met  our  friends — the 
Johnson  brothers — and  proceeded  to  drive  about  five 
miles  farther  over  the  prairie  before  we  were  detected 
by  a  single  quail.  At  this  point  we  got  out  of  the 
buggy  and  partook  of  some  refreshments,  and  pro- 
ceeded on  foot  about  two  miles,  when  our  feet  became 
sore.     We  were  about  to  inquire  of  our  country  friends 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  53 

if  this  wasn't  an  off  day  with  quails,  when — whir — 
whirr — whirrr!  a  dozen  birds  flew  up.  Bang — bang — 
bang!  The  birds  that  we  shoot  at  do  not  fall  fluttering 
to  the  ground.  They  vanish  like  a  schooner  of  beer  in 
the  presence  of  the  editor  of  the  Houston  Age.  We  hear 
the  country  fellows  laugh.  They  have  bagged  three 
birds. 

One  of  us  city  fellows  managed  to  hit  something. 
It  was  the  right  shoulder,  and  it  was  quite  black 
next  day.  A  tramp  of  a  mile,  and  we  discover  some 
more  birds,  and  two  entirely  new  blisters  on  each  of 
our  heels.  We  get  one  of  these  birds,  and  feel  satisfied 
that  we  would  have  got  them  all,  but  for  the  unneces- 
sary precipitancy  with  which  they  left  the  deadly  neigh- 
borhood. 

At  this  point  we  take  some  more  refreshments 
and  a  rest.  Then  we  walk  some  more.  We  won- 
der why  the  birds  do  not  alight  on  the  trees  or  on 
a  fence.  What  are  trees  and  fences  for,  anyhow?  We 
surprise  a  jack-rabbit,  and  scare  him  badly  by  plant- 
ing lead  in  the  landscape  all  around  him.  We  proceed 
in  this  manner  for  several  hours,  getting  a  few  birds, 
intimidating  vast  numbers,  and  getting  more  blisters 
on  our  feet. 

Then  we  concluded  that  we  had  unbended  ourselves 
sufficiently,  and  had  had  enough  rest  for  one  day. 
Our  country  friends  had  a  large  bag  full  of  birds.  We 
had  seven  quail,  one  lark,  and  a  fly-up-the-creek.  We 
had  been  laboring  under  the  delusion  that  it  was 
cheaper  to  go  out  and  shoot  quails  than  to  buy  them 
at  a  restaurant. 

We  are  not  of  that  opinion  now,  as  will  be  shown, 
with  ghastly  distinctness,  in  the  following  state' 
ment: 


§4  SKETCHES  FROM 


LIABILITIES. 

To  loo  cartridges,  No.   lo.           •         •         •         •  $3  5^^ 

To  beer  and  other  refreshments       .         .         .  3  oo 

To  pocket-knife  broken  in  opening  beer  bottle  50 

Arnica  for  shoulder 25 

$7  25 

ASSETS. 

By  5  cartridges  on  hand 17^ 

By  7  quails,  market  price         ....  70 

By  I  lark,  market  price 05 

By  I  fly-up-the-creek,  no  value 

£ala?tce  Loss     .         .         .      *  .         •  $6  32^ 


$7  25 
It  will  be  seen  that  our  liabilities  exceed  our  assets 
by  $6.32!,  or,  in  other  words,  our  nine  birds  cost  us 
an  average  of  about  eighty  cents  each,  without  taking 
into  consideration  the  wear  and  tear  of  the  guns  and 
our  heels. 

We  propose  to  work  right  along  now,  without  re- 
laxation in  the  quail  shooting  line,  for  the  next  seventy- 
five  years. 

A  tramp  who  was  stealing  a  ride  on  a  freight  train 
near  San  Antonio,  was  recently  killed  by  a  railroad  ac- 
cident. This  should  be  a  solemn  warning  to  tramps 
never  to  steal  a  ride.  Let  the  tramp  tear  his  clothes, 
punch  a  hole  in  his  hat,  paint  his  nose  red,  and  then 
apply  to  the  president  of  the  road  for  a  free  pass  as  a 
member  of  the  press.  A  tramp  has  no  earthly  excuse 
to  steal  a  ride. 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr 


55 


SAN    ANTONIO    MEXICANS 


Since  the  fall  of  the  Alamo  there  has  been  a  slow 
and  gradual  change  in  the  aspect  of  the  city  of  San 
Antonio  ;  the  enterprise  and  civilization  of  the  Ameri- 
can taking  the  place  of  the  apathy,  ignorance  and  shift- 
lessness  of  the  Mexican. 

The  old  and  new  are  brought  together  in  violent 
contrast  in  San  Antonio.  Here  the  Mexican  jacal, 
with  its  thatched  roof  and  adobe  walls  ;  across  the 
street  the  palatial  residence  of  an  American  or  German 
resident,  with  its  surroundings  of  flowers  and  fount- 
ains. Now  a  narrow  and  crooked  street  is  intersected 
by  a  broad  avenue,  lined  with  trees,  where  we  see  the 
carriage   of  the  broadcloth-covered  American  passing 


56  SKETCHES  EROM 

the  ragged  Mexican's  donkey-cart,  of  a  pattern  used 
200  years  ago.  Farther  on  we  see  a  cockpit  on  the 
same  block  with  a  Methodist  church,  while  we  hear  the 
creak  of  the  huge  Mexican  carretas  mingling  with  the 
rattle  of  the  railroad  cars. 

The  San  Antonio  river  flows  through  the  city.  A 
range  of  hills,  with  a  gradual  elevation  of  200  feet,  al- 
most surround  the  valley  in  which  San  Antonio  is  sit- 
uated. The  altitude  of  San  Antonio  above  the  level 
of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  is  687  feet ;  average  temperature, 
spring,  69.90  ;  summer,  83.50  ;  autumn,  68.90  ;  and  win- 
ter, 52.90  degrees. 

The  city  has  now  a  population  of  about  22,000.  Oi 
this  number  six  thousand  are  Mexicans.  The  balance 
includes  representatives  of  almost  every  nation  on 
earth. 

The  Mexican  element  in  the  population  is  what 
makes  San  Antonio  differ  so  much  from  every  other 
city  in  the  United  States.  The  average  Mexican  is  a 
mixture  of  Spaniard,  Indian  and  negro.  There  is 
nothing  thoroughbred  about  him  ;  and,  even  if  he  were 
washed,  he  would  have  but  little  to  boast  of  over  the 
Indian.  It  may  be  conceded  that  he  is  more  of  a  suc- 
cess in  raising  a  crop  of  small-pox  ;  but,  outside  of 
that,  he  possesses  no  virtue  nor  personal  charm  that 
the  Indian  has  not.  The  Mexicans  are,  as  a  class, 
probably  the  poorest  citizens  in  the  United  States. 
The  Mexican  who  squanders  twenty-five  cents  a  day 
on  the  support  of  his  family  and  dogs,  is  looked  upon 
as  a  man  in  easy  circumstances,  and  of  prodigal 
habits. 

Upon  arriving  at  San  Antonio,  one  of  the  first  things 
the  tourist  from  the  north  wants  to  see  is  a  Mexican 
"  jackal."     That,  at  least,  is  what  he  asks  for.     He  has 


"  TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  57 

read  about  "  the  dark-eyed  daughters  of  old  Castile," 
sitting  at  the  door  of  the  Mexican  jacal.  A  jacal  is  a 
Mexican  hut ;  (the  word  is  pronounced  hackal.)  Nine- 
tenths  of  the  houses  in  the  valley  of  the  Rio  Grande 
are  jacals.  A  jacal  is  a  den  hardly  fit  for  a  jackal  to 
live  in.  It  consists  of  one  room,  12x12,  and  is  con- 
structed by  driving  a  number  of  posts  into  the  ground, 
very  slowly — that  is,  it  takes  a  Mexican  about  half  a 
day  to  plant  one  post,  and  the  other  half  of  the  day  to 
lie  on  the  ground  and  look  at  it  from  different  direc- 
tions to  see  if  it  is  set  in  straight.  The  posts  are  plant- 
ed close  together,  and  the  space  between  is  daubed 
with  mud.  The  roof  is  made  with  cane,  thatched  with 
tule.  There  is  an  opening  in  the  side  of  the  jacal,  used 
for  the  entrance  and  exit  of  the  inhabitants.  A  blanket 
with  enough  holes  in  it  to  justify  it  being  washed  by 
the  dozen,  usurps  the  place  of  a  door.  The  inside 
walls  are  adorned  with  cheap  and  highly-colored  pict- 
ures of  saints  with  blue  legs  and  purple  hair.  These 
saints  bear  a  startling  resemblance,  in  facial  expression 
and  general  anatomical  construction,  to  those  high 
personages,  the  king  and  jack  of  diamonds.  There  is 
no  attempt  at  gorgeousness  in  the  way  of  furniture.  A 
couple  of  benches  and  a  few  goat  skins  comprise  the 
parlor  set.  The  library,  dining-room,  parlor,  stable, 
kitchen,  picture-gallery  and  sleeping  apartments  are 
all  in  one  room  on  the  ground  floor.  When  the  owner 
is  influential  and  opulent,  a  goat  pen  may  be  discovered 
in  the  neighborhood,  and  a  few  lean  donkeys  browse 
around  in  the  adjacent  chapparel. 

— »-^<KE^ — 


58  SKETCHES    EROM 


FIRE     CRANKS. 


There  are  a  number  of  stereotyped  characters  who 
attend  all  fires.  When  you  get  up  in  the  night,  put 
your  socks  on  wrong  side  out,  rush  down  town  with  one 
suspender  trailing  on  the  ground,  and  arrive  at  the  fire 
in  a  half  dressed  and  breathless  condition,  you  find  these 
characters  already  on  the  ground,  and — as  Artemus 
Ward  said  about  the  stars  in  Heaven — "  up  to  their 
usual  doin's."  There  is  for  instance  the  hoarse-voiced 
man  who  acts  as  if  the  whole  conflagration  was  under 
his  personal  supervision,  and  who  stands  on  an  ash- 
barrel  in  the  alley,  wildly  gesticulating,  and  howling 
suggestions  to  the  chief  of  the  fire  department.  He 
usually  gets  knocked  down  by  a  ladder,  or  has  the  hose 
turned  on  him  by  accident;  then,  when  he  gets  all  the 
muddy  water  out  of  his  mouth  and  ears,  he  goes  off  to 
the  other  side  of  the  street,  looks  on  at  a  safe  distance, 
and  has  a  great  deal  to  say  about  the  inefficiency  of 
volunteer  fire  departments.  An  equally  dangerous  and 
absurd  character  is  the  man  with  the  axe.  He  is  always 
early  at  a  fire,  accompanied  by  a  new  axe.  No  one 
knows  where  he  got  the  axe  and  no  one  ever  sees  him 
carrying  it  back  to  where  he  got  it,  but,  while  he  is  on 
the  ground,  he  makes  things  lively.  He  is  a  perfect, 
''besom  of  destruction."  He  batters  in  doors,  hacks  the 
fence  in  a  vain  effort  to  cut  it  away  to  make  room  for 
the  engine,  and,  in  his  wild  desire  to  save  property,  he 
demolishes  everything  that  an  axe  will  make  an  impres- 
sion on.  This  fiend,  who  is  too  weak  to  do  any  manual 
labor,  and  who  lets  his  wife  chop  all  the  fire-wood  at 


''TEXAS    SIFTINGS. 


59 


home,  will  create  havoc  and  desolation  for  two  blocks 
around  a  fire,  and  he  has  even  been  known,  when  every- 
thing, including  the  lightning  rod,  and  the  pumps,  was 
cut  down,  to  turn  in  and  hew  to  pieces  the  shade  trees 
in  the  next  lot  to  keep  the  fire  from  spreading. 

Then  there  is  the  man  who  has  an  inordinate  craving 
for  a  ladder.  His  inmost  soul  is  stirred  with  a  yearn- 
ing for  a  step  ladder?  In  tones  swelling  with  pathos, 
profanity,  and  excitement,  he  shouts:  "Have  any  of 
you  got  a  ladder?  My  Heaven!  will  none  of  you  give 
me  a  ladder?"  as  if  a  twenty-four  foot  ladder  was  some- 
thing that — like  a  six-shooter,  or  a  charm  to  prevent 
rheumatism — everyone  carried  in  his  pocket.  When  he 
can't  get  a  ladder,  he  tries  to  climb  up  the  water-spout, 
that  he  may,  at  the  risk  of  his  life,  break  open  some  of 
the  second  story  windows,  let  the  air  in,  and  give  the 
fire  a  chance.  In  contrast  with  this  last  vigorous  char- 
acter, is  the  helpless  man  who  goes  about  wringing  his 
hands  or  carrying  an  empty  bucket,  getting  in  every- 
body's way  and  wondering  if  the  building  was  insured. 
He  gets  tripped  up  by  the  hose  and  knocked  about 
generally.  He  wants  to  stop  the  foreman  of  the  fire 
department  and  ask  him  how  the  fire  originated,  and 
if  he  thinks  there  is  any  chance  of  it  spreading,  but  the 
foreman  has  only  time  to  address  some  bad  words  to 
him.  Very  prominent  in  the  crowd  at  every  fire  is  the 
man  who  was  the  first  to  see  it — there  are  usually  about 
forty  of  him.  He  tells  how — and  he  is  very  particular 
regarding  details — h@  was  standing  talking  to  a  friend, 
on  the  sidewalk  about  two  blocks  away,  when  he  noticed 
a  small  quantity  of  smoke  oozing,  etc.,  etc.,  but  every- 
one know^  him  well,  having  suffered  from  his  egotistical 
narratives,  and  we  will,  therefore,  dismiss  him  along 
with  the  man  who  has  the  defective  flue  theory  regard- 


6o 


SKETCHES    FROM 


ing  the  origin  of  the  fire,  and  the  other  man  with  the 
incendiary  theory. 


THE     PELON     DOG. 


The  Mexicans 
call  him  pelon. 
The  Americans 
refer  to  him  as 
the  no-hair  dog; 
while  the  stran- 
ger from  the 
north,  who  sees 
him  for  the  first 
time,  calls  him  a 
cast-iron  dog, 
for  that  is  what 
he  looks  like  at 
first  glance.  Al- 
though not  par- 
ticularly intelli- 
gent, the  no-hair 
dog  is  susceptible  of  a  high  polish,  for  his  hairless  hide 
shines  in  the  sun  as  if  it  had  recently  been  touched  up 
with  stove-polish.  His  body  is  about  the  size,  and 
somewhat  of  the  shape,  of  a  watermelon — that  is,  of  one 
of  those  small  watermelons  that  is  about  the  size  of  a 
pelon  dog.  He  differs,  however  from  the  melon  in 
that  his  tail  is  adorned  with  a  tuft  of  blonde  hair, 
which  is  never  the  case  with  the  watermelon.  He 
wears  a  tuft  of  hair — another  tuft,  of  course^  not  the 
same  one — on  his  head,  which  gives  him  a  very  striking 
appearance. 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  6i 

The  pelo7i  dog  is  found  in  Austin,  in  San  Antonio, 
and  in  taniales^  the  latter  being  a  Mexican  dish,  the 
ingredients  of  which  are  as  uncertain  as  those  of  hash. 

ThQj)e/on  is  a  descendant  of  the  Barbary  dog.  He  is 
of  a  purple-blue  color,  has  bandy  legs,  and  is  always 
fat.  His  fatness  is  the  result  of  an  advantage  he  has 
over  all  other  dogs,  he  being  as  bald  (with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  two  tufts  afore  mentioned)  as  the  inside  of 
a  goose.  He  is  not  troubled,  as  other  curs  are,  by 
detachments  of  flees  scouting  over  him,  and  therefore 
does  not  keep  himself  thin  with  the  exercise  of  scratch- 
ing his  left  ear  with  his  right  hind  leg.  Strangers 
from  the  East,  who  never  saw  any  of  these  bandy- 
legged absurdities  until  they  came  to  Austin  or  San 
Antonio,  are  puzzled  considerably  when  they  see  the 
naked  dog  for  the  first  time.  A  Chicago  man,  just 
arrived  in  Austin,  asked  the  baggage  man  at  the 
depot,  what  was  "the  matter  with  that  dog?"  The 
baggage  man  was  busy,  and  replied,  after  the  pleasant, 
laconic  manner  of  baggage  men  when  they  are  busy: 
"  Coal-oil  lamp  explosion."  The  Chicago  man  was 
surprised,  as  he  walked  up  town,  to  see  two  or  three 
dogs  on  every  block  with  the  hair  apparently  all  singed 
off  them.  Meeting  the  baggage  man  at  the  hotel  door, 
he  remarked:  "Say,  mister,  didn't — didn't  the  coal-oil 
lamp  explode  in  a  dog-factory?  " 

The  J?e/on  dog  is  a  great  favorite  with  the  Mexicans 
in  Texas.  Every  Mexican  family  owns  from  one  to 
half-a-dozen  of  them,  according  to  their  means.  The. 
poorer  the  family,  the  greater  number  of  dogs  they  can 
afford  to  support.  It  does  not  cost  much  to  keep  a 
covey  of  no-hair  dogs,  except  during  the  month  of 
July.  Then  the  proprietors  of  the  dogs  are  expected 
to  come    forward  and  pay  a  dollar   apiece    license  on 


62  SKETCHES  EROM 

each  and  every  dog,  no  matter  whether  it  has  hair  on 
its  back  or  not.  Paying  out  that  much  actual  cash  is 
calculated  to  put  a  Mexican  family,  with  six  or  seven 
dogs,  back  about  ten  years  in  their  finances.  Many  of 
the  families  find  it  cheaper  to  take  xS\€\r pelon  dogs  and 
move  out  into  the  country,  and  only  move  back  when 
the  dog-catching  season  is  over,  and  the  dog-catchers 
have  quit  going  the  rounds.  Other  families  that  do 
not  own  a  watermelon  ranch  in  the  country,  stay  at 
home,  and  tie  their  dogs  up  under  their  beds  where  the 
dog-catchers  can't  scoop  them.  The  consequence  is 
that  the  pelon  dogs  howl  all  night,  so  that  strangers  at 
the  hotels  can't  get  a  wink  of  sleep,  which  injures  the 
prosperity  of  the  town.  If  it  were  not  for  these  howl- 
ing dogs,  San  Antonio,  where  the  pelon  dog  is  epidemic 
the  whole  year,  would  have  three  or  four  more  railroads 
than  she  has. 


WEBSTER    BORROWS  A  DOLLAR. 

"  Sam,  can  yer  lend  me  a  dollar  that  yer  has  no  use 
fur?"  said  Jim  Webster  to  Sam  Johnsing,  whom  he 
met  opposite  Graham's  Drug  Store. 

"Certaingly,  Jim,  I'se  pleased  to  'comodateyer,"  said 
Sam,  handing  Jim  a  dollar. 

Jim  was  so  surprised  at  his  luck,  that  he  bit  the  coin, 
to  see  if  he  was  awake,  or  merely  dreaming,  and  in  do- 
ing so  discovered  that  it  was  made  of  lead. 

"  This  yere  is  a  counterfeit,  Sam;  I  didn't  think  you 
would  do  me  that  way." 

"  I  know  it's  counterfeit,  Jim;  yer  asked  me  fur  one  I 
had  no  use  fur,  an'  I  give  it  to  yer.  I'm  always  'com- 
modatin'  to  my  friends." 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr 


63 


BILL     SNORT'S     LEGAL     EXPERIENCE. 


We  were  no/ 
at  all  astounde(^ 
a  few  days  ago 
to  see  Bill  Snort, 
of  the  Crosby 
County  Clarion 
and  Farmers' 
Vindicator^  stroll 
in.  After  we  had 
taken  him  to  a 
saloon,  and 
afforded  him  an 
opportunity  to 
moisten  the  in- 
ner man,  he  was 
led  back  to  the 
sanctum,  and 
urged  to  draw 
up  to  the  fire  and  make  himself  comfortable.  We  have 
some  cigars  at  the  office,  which  have  been  thrust  upon 
us  by  candidates  during  the  recent  local  elections. 
They  are  the  sort  generally  used  by  candidates  in  con- 
solidating the  floating  vote,  and  were  given  us  inadvert- 
ently, owing  to  the  candidate  being  too  tight  to  dis- 
criminate. When  a  man,  who  is  not  used  to  that  kind 
of  cigar  (two  for  a  nickle),  seeks  to  soothe  himself  with 
one  of  them,  after  a  few  whiffs  he  feels  a  yearning  to 
get  out  quickly  into  the  open  air,  where  he  can  lie  down 
and  die.     Not  wishing  to  take  up  much  of  Bill  Snort's 


64  SKETCHES  FROM 

time,  by  talking  to  him,  we  considerately  presented  him 
with  one  of  these  cigars.  The  result  was  not  satisfac- 
tory to  us.  Instead  of  getting  up  and  seeking  fresh  air, 
he  said  it  was  the  best  cigar  he  had  smoked  since  the 
meeting  of  the  Press  Convention  at  Houston. 

"  Well,  Bill,"  asked  one  of  the  Sifters,  "  what  brings 
you  to  Austin?  Now  own  up  that  your  presence  at  the 
Capital  has  a  political  significance.  Col.  H.  B.  Andrews, 
of  San  Antonio,  is  in  town  just  now,  and  when  Gov. 
Roberts,  Bill  Snort,  of  the  Crosby  County  Clarion  and 
Far7ners  Vindicator^  and  Harry  Andrews  are  in  perihe- 
lion, it  means  that  there  is  plotting  against  the  whites. 
That  kind  of  a  brilliant  concatenation  must  mean  some- 
thing extraordinary." 

"  I  didn't  know  Col.  Andrews  was  in  Austin.  He  will 
be  glad  to  know  that  I  am  here,  for  he  is  anxious  to 
consult  with  me  on  a  matter  of  great  importance  to  his 
road.     My  pass  is  about  run  out." 

There  was  a  pause.  Bill  continued  to  enjoy  that  vile 
cigar  that  was  bad  enough  to  have  made  a  horse  and 
carriage  sick.  Finally,  stretching  himself  out,  and  blow- 
ing a  cloud  of  smoke  at  the  ceiling,  he  said: 

"  I've  a  great  notion  of  telling  you  how  I  once  col- 
lected a  $ioo  fee  from  a  Scotchman  in  San  Antonio, 
when  I  was  practicing  law.  You  could  write  it  up  and 
make  a  first-rate  thing  of  it." 

"Why,  Bill,  how  did  you  come  to  practice  law?" 

Bill  looked  all  around  to  make  sure  that  he  was  not 
overheard,  and  then  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Yes,  I  blush  to  say  that,  at  one  time,  before  I  re- 
formed and  became  a  journalist,  I  was  in  a  fair  way  to 
become  a  hardened  criminal  lawyer,  but  I  was  snatch- 
ed, as  a  brand,  from  the  burning.  Of  course  this  is  not 
for  publication.      It  might  injure  my   social  status  in 


''TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  65 

Crosby  County.  I  have  given  up  all  the  bad  habits  I 
contracted  while  practicing  law.  By-the-way,  that's  a 
telephone,  ain't  it?" 

"  Yes,  that's  what  it  is." 

"Why  the  mischief,  then,  don't  you  connect  with  a 
saloon,  and  order  up  some  whiskey  toddies;  what  else 
are  telephones  for?" 

From  this  we  inferred  that,  if  a  vigorous  effort  were 
made.  Bill  might  be  induced  to  absorb  another  stimu- 
lant, and  our  worst  fears  were  realized. 

As  he  stirred  up  the  stuff,  he  remarked,  closing  one 
eye  significantly: 

"As  I  was  saying,  when  I  quit  the  law  I  gave  up  all 
my  bad  habits.  Sanctified  Moses!  What  weak  whiskey 
this  is!  It  hasn't  got  as  much  strength  in  it  as  the 
Greenbackers  have  in  the  Legislature.  Is  this  the  kind 
of  stuff  you  run  Texas  Sif tings  on?  But  I  was  going  to 
tell  you  how  I  scooped  in  that  fee." 

"  Did  you  have  much  civil  practice?" 

"  I  was  a  very  civil  lawyer  outside  of  the  court  house, 
but  inside  I  used  to  throw  chairs  and  books  at  the  op- 
posing counsel,  and  sass  the  court  as  fluently  as  if  I  had 
been  practicing  for  twenty  years.  A  San  Antonio  jury 
has  no  reverence  for  a  lawyer  who  doesn't  stand  up  for 
his  rights.  I  tell  you  that  those  San  Antonio  lawyers 
squander  language  on  each  other  that  is  almost  strong 
enough  for  the  United  States  Senate." 

"  Look  here,  Bill,  our  paper  goes  to  press  on  Friday, 
and  it  is  Monday  already.  If  you  have  got  anything 
for  us  to  write  up,  let  us  have  it.  We  would  like  to  hear 
about  you  collecting  a  fee  from  a  Scotchman.  We 
never  before  heard  of  such  a  feat  being  performed.  Did 
you  chloroform  him  with  a  club  before  you  went  through 
his  pockets?" 


66  SKETCHES    FROM 

"  After  the  war,"  resumed  Bill,  "  I  practiced  law  in 
San  Antonio.  At  first,  and  ever  afterwards,  people 
hesitated  about  intrusting  me  with  cases  involving  large 
sums  of  money.  My  practice  was  principally  of  a 
criminal  nature.  As  in  a  hospital,  the  paupers  are  all 
turned  over  for  the  young  doctors  to  practice  on,  so,  in 
the  Texas  courts,  pauper  criminals  are  turned  over  to 
the  young  lawyers.  The  young  lawyers  gain  a  great 
deal  of  experience,  but  they  never  get  any  actual  cash. 
I  had  a  large,  but  not  lucrative,  criminal  practice.  I 
don't  know  how  many  poor  devils  for  whom  I,  with 
some  slight  assistance  from  the  State's  Attorney,  got 
free  transportation  to  Huntsville.  Why,  I  secured  a 
sentence  of  99  years  for  one  man.  He  doesn't  know 
what  a  narrow  escape  he  had  from  being  commuted — I 
mean  hung.  If  the  other  young  attorney,  who  was  to 
help  me,  had  not  taken  sick,  we  would  have  hung  that 
man  sure." 

"  How  about  that  Scotchman  you  robbed?" 
"It  came  about  in  this  way:  Judge  Devine,  a  leading 
lawyer  of  San  Antonio,  who  likes  to  help  incipient 
young  barristers  along,  was  either  moved  to  admiration 
at  my  success  in  securing  permanent  positions  for  my 
clients  at  Huntsville  Penitentiary,  or  else  he  was  carried 
away  by  compassion  at  the  wrecked  condition  of  my 
clothing.  At  any  rate,  he  turned  over  a  number  of 
cases  to  me,  allowing  me  to  retain  any  fee  I  might  suc- 
ceed in  embezzling  from  the  client.  One  of  these  was 
MacNab  vs.  Menger.  I  was  for  the  plaintiff,  who, 
during  the  war,  had  sold  a  barrel  of  soda  to  Menger, 
who  ran  a  soap  factory.  They  disagreed  about  the 
payment.  Menger  wanted  to  pay  fourteen  thousand 
dollars  in  Confederate  bonds,  but  MacNab  had  a  pref- 
erence  for   $250  in    actual    hard    cash,    that    the    rats 


'TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  67 

couldn't  gnaw.  In  his  answer,  Menger  claimed  that 
he  spoiled  $2,000  worth  of  soap  by  using  the  soda,  and 
asked  that  MacNab  be  required  to  pay  that  amount 
as  damages;  he  farther  claimed  that  he  never  had  re- 
ceived any  soda  from  MacNab,  and  finally,  that  Texas 
being  in  rebellion,  the  contract  was  null  and  void  ab  in- 
itio. He  procured  the  services  of  I.  A.  &  G.  W.  Paschal, 
two  great  ab  initio  jurists." 

"  Whew!  Are  you  going  to  give  us  this  ab  initio  busi- 
ness ad  infinitum?  " 

"Well,  the  first  important  step  for  me  to  take  was 
to  waylay  MacNab  and  secure  my  fee.  He  kept  a 
family  grocery  store,  and  I  had  a  family  and  no  gro- 
ceries. I  thought  the  unities  would  be  preserved  by 
my  making  a  raid  on  that  store  and  sacking  it.  He 
was  a  keen,  shrewd  Scotchman,  and  I  anticipated 
trouble  in  making  him  understand  that  about  $100 
worth  of  groceries,  in  advance,  was  about  what  he 
ought  to  be  glad  to  suffer." 

"If  you  had  only  inflicted  this  yarn  upon  him,  he 
would  have  submitted  to  the  larceny  just  to  get  rid  of 
you." 

Bill,  however,  paid  no  attention  to  the  interruption, 
but  kept  right  on: 

"  I  found  the  store  in  charge  of  a  green-looking  young 
man,  with  blonde  hair,  blue  eyes,  and  the  broadest 
Scotch  dialect  ever  brought  to  this  country.  He  had 
only  arrived  a  few  weeks  previously.  He  told  me  that 
MacNab  was  not  in,  at  which  I  was  not  very  much  sur- 
prised, as  I  had  just  seen  him  in  the  court  house.  The 
green  young  man's  name  was  Sandy  MacGeddes,  (Mr. 
MacNab  called  him  "  the  young  mon.")  When  I  hand- 
ed him  my  card,  emblazoned  with  the  legend:  'Bill 
Snort,  Attorney  and  Counselor  at    Law,'  he  was  nearly 


68  SKETCHES    FROM 

overpowered.  He  removed  his  hat,  and  looked  scared. 
In  the  old  country  a  counselor-at-law  is  a  kind  of  a 
legal  potentate,  who  has  a  wig  and  an  ancestral  castle, 
and  never  converses  with  anybody  below  the  rank  of 
a  duke,  except  on  business.  I  informed  MacGeddes 
that  I  had  been  entrusted  with  some  of  NacNab's  legal 
business,  and  had  therefore  transferred  my  custom  to 
his  establishment;  that  I  wanted  about  fioo  in  groce- 
ries. The  young  man  intimated  that  he  would  feel 
flattered  to  take  my  order.  As  the  proper  time  to  make 
hay  is  while  the  bright  orb  of  day  hangs  resplendant  in 
the  blue  vault  above " 

It  was  evident  that  the  whiskey  was  stronger  than 
Col.  Snort  had  supposed  it  was.  He  was  dropping  in- 
to poetry.  The  Sifters  gave  him  ten  minutes  to  finish 
his  rigmarole,  promising  him  another  drink  and  an- 
other Havana  cigar,  if  he  made  the  connection  on  time  ; 
if  he  didn't,  his  life  was  to  pay  the  forfeit. 

"  I  determined  to  make  hay  while  the  sun  shone," 
resumed  Bill.  "  I  called  a  passing  dray,  and  the  way 
that  I  piled  family  supplies  into  it  made  the  neighbors 
think  the  sheriff  was  selling  out  the  concern.  Sandy 
MacGeddes  checked  off  the  articles  with  delight,  and  a 
lead  pencil.  He  was  entranced  at  the  big  sale  he  was 
making.  I  was  in  a  hurry  for  fear  MacNab  would 
return  before  the  goods  were  out  of  sight,  and  refuse 
to  ratify  the  proceedings  of  the  convention.  If  he  did 
return,  he  would  probably  undertake  to  unload  the 
dray,  and  then  there  would  be  a  disgraceful  Roman- 
Graeco  wrestling  match  between  a  prominent  lawyer 
and  a  local  merchant  prince.  I  did  not  care  much  for 
notoriety;  it  was  groceries  I  was  after;  so  I  helped  with 
my  own  hands  to  carry  out  the  bottles,  boxes  of  cigars, 
and  like  family  supplies.     In  order  not  to  lose  any  time, 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  69 

I  took  things  as  they  came,  and,  in  the  hurry,  actually 
captured  a  lot  of  wagon-grease,  and  a  dozen  monkey- 
wrenches,  just  to  make  up  the  even  §100.  On  parting 
with  Sandy  MacGeddes,  he  said,  with  a  bow,  he  knew 
Mr.  MacNab  would  always  regret  not  being  present  to 
entertain  me;  to  which  I  replied  that  I  had  no  doubt 
his  employer  would  regret  his  absence,  and  if  he  knew 
I  was  there,  he  would  leave  whatever  he  might  be  do- 
ing, and  hurry  down  to  the  store  in  a  hack  to  confer 
with  me,  after  which  I  took  a  seat  on  the  dray  to  pro- 
tect the  goods  m  transitu — another  technical  term  you 
don't  understand. 

"I  reckon  I'll  be  through  with  my  last  words  in 
time,"  said  Bill.  "  You  see,  I  came  by  those  goods 
honestly.  I  had  a  conveyance  drawn  up — the  dray,  you 
know — by  which  conveyance  the  goods  were  conveyed 
into  my  possession.  But  the  meeting  between  MacNab 
and  Sandy  MacGeddes  was  a  tableau  in  itself.  It 
threatened  to  end  very  much  like  the  interview  between 
Macbeth  and  Mac  Duff." 

"Only  seven  minutes  left.  Bill,  for  you  to  address 
the  assembled  public,  and  then  we  will  spring  the  trap 
and  drop  you,  if  you  are  not  through  talking." 

"  When  MacNab  entered  the  store,  he  stood  still  in 
astonishment,  and  in  the  doorway.  He  was  surprised 
at  the  evidences  of  the  big  sale  his  "young  mon"  had 
made.  The  young  man  was  jubilant  over  the  large 
transaction.  He  expected  that  his  employer  would 
raise  his  wages  on  the  spot. 

" '  It  canna  be  that  ye  hae  made  sic  a  braw  sale, 
Sandy.  I  didna  ken  ye  war  sic  a  salesman,'  said 
NacNab,  as  he  glanced  around  at  the  depleted  shelves. 

"'And  why  for  no,  uncle?  Do  ye  think  I  canna 
mak'  as  big  sales  as  ony  ither  bodie? '  said   the  young 


70  SKETCHES  EROM 

man  with  the  imported  accent,  who  was  disappointed 
because  his  uncle  did  not  embrace  him. 

"*Wha  did  ye  sell  tae,  Sandy? ' 

"*Taea  braw  gentleman;  ane  o' thae  counselors-at- 
law/ 

"  '  I'm  thinkin'  ye  didna  deleever  the  goods  till  he 
paid  ye?'  said  MacNab,  anxiously. 

Then  Sandy  explained  the  nature  of  the  transaction, 
and  MacNab,  in  speechless  horror,  gazed  at  the  de- 
cimated array  of  canned  goods,  the  devastation  in  the 
rows  of  bottles,  the  tenantless  candle  boxes,  and  the 
empty  places  that  were  full  of  fresh  butter  and 
eggs  when  he  left  the  store  in  the  morning.  There 
was  not  a  department  that  had  not  sustained  severe 
losses. 

" '  Ten  dollars  wad  hae  been  nae  sma'  fee  for  sic  a 
pettifogger  as  Bill  Snort,'  he  groaned.  '  If  a  puir  attor- 
ney like  Bill  Snort  can  sack  my  store,  I  may  expec'  his 
partner,  Judge  Devine,  the  muckle  pirate  in  the  case, 
tae  cart  off  the  store,  cellar  an'  a',  and  claim  a  lien  on 
my  homestead.  Oh,  Sandy,  mon,  this  is  awsome;  ye 
hae  ruined  your  auld  uncle,  but  I'll  hae  the  buccaneer 
up  for  gettin'  awa'  wi'  a  puir  daft  gowk  just  frae  Scot- 
land.    I'll  gang  up  an'  indict  him  the  noo." 

"  *  But,  uncle,  he  is  a  counsellor-at-law,  an'  he * 

"  '■  Hoots,  mon,  dinna  fash  me  wi'  yer  counsellors-at- 
law.  They  should  hae  keepit  ye  at  hame.  Ye're  no'  fit 
tae  trade  wi'  San  Antonio  attorneys.  Why  didna  ye  set 
the  doggie  on  the  blackmailin'  shoplifter?' 

The  old  man  sank  into  a  chair. 

"  '  This  is  an  unco  sair  day  wi'  me,*  he  said.  *  I'm 
losin'  my  mind,  Sandy,  an'  then  I'll  be  no  better  off  than 
yersel',  you  puir,  freckless  bodie.  Gi'e  me  a  mouthfu' 
o'  that  auld  Scotch  whusky.' 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  71 

"  *  The  counsellor-at-law  bought  it  all/replied  Sandy, 
in  a  sad  tone. 

"  '  Gang  awa  an'  tap  a  bottle  o'  Scotch  ale,  then,  for  I 
feel  faint.' 

"  '  He's  ta'en  a'  the  ale,  Uncle,  but  I  charged  him  wi' 
sax  bottles  mair  than  he  ta'en.' 

"  Just  at  this  moment  a  colored  man  entered,  and 
said: 

"  *  Boss,  dat  ar  liar.  Bill  Snort,  tole  me  ter  kerlect  two 
bits  for  deliverin'  a  load  of  groceries  for  you  at  his 
house.' 

"  MacNab  reached  back,  nervously,  into  the  barrel  for 
an  axe-handle,  but  there  was  none  there.  I  had  already 
bought  out  all  the  axe-handles,  so  he  made  a  break  at 
the  darkey  with  a  chair,  while  the  Ethiopian  clubbed  his 
whip,  and  stood  ready  to  strike.  Sandy  MacGeddes 
seized  a  two-pound  weight,  and  drew  back  to  hurf  it  at 
the  drayman." 

"  How  did  the  fight  turn  out?"  exclaimed  one  of  the 
Sifters. 

"  Which  whipped?"  asked  the  other. 

"  I've  nothing  more  to  say.  Time's  up.  You  told  me 
you  would  only  give  me  ten  minutes.  Time's  up,  and 
I've  got  to  go  now.  Col.  Andrews,  of  the  Sunset  Route, 
wants  to  see  me  about  renewing  my  pass,"  and  Bill 
passed  out,  and  we  saw  him  no  more. 


General  Harney,  of  the  regular  army,  is  a  thorough 
Irishman,  and  makes  splendid  bulls.  When  he  was  in 
Texas,  a  brother  officer  said  to  him  one  day:  "  I  believe, 
Harney,  after  you  are  dead,  I'll  write  your  life."  *'  If 
you  do,  I'll  take  yours  as  sure  as  you  are  alive,"  was 
the  perfectly  serious  response. 


72 


SKETCHES  EROM 


THE     HOTEL     WAITER, 


^^^Sff^^'W     I        The  hotel  waiter 
'^^      •■•■'       '''  "'"    is     a     man    whose 

business  it  is  to 
make  you  wait  for 
your  meals  unless 
you  give  him  half- 
a-dollar  to  encour- 
age him  in  making 
a  fast  record.  The 
hotel  waiter,  in  the 
South,  is  a  colored 
man  who  can  make 
haste  more  slowly 
than  any  other 
creature  on  earth. 
Like  the  waiter 
that  he  carries  the  dishes  on,  he  is  black  and  polished. 
If  you  place  half-a-dollar  on  the  first-mentioned  waiter, 
it  makes  an  impression  on  the  other  waiter.  He  is 
called  a  waiter  because  he  is  supposed  to  wait  on  the 
guest,  (the  waitee),  but  the  latter  is  really  the  waiter, 
because  the  waiter  is O,  pshaw!  this  waiter  busi- 
ness is  getting  mixed;  there  is  too  much  of  our  expres- 
sive English  language  anyhow.  But  to  resume,  as  the 
preachers  say;  when  you  come  into  the  dining-room,  the 
waiter  acts  as  if  he  were  afraid  that  you  were  going  to 
change  your  mind  and  go  to  some  other  hotel.  He 
beckons  you,  backs  away  from  you,  and  wildly  gesticu- 
lates toward  a  chair,  which  he  seizes  and  swings  away 


"  TEXAS     SIFTINGSr  73 

from  the  table,  and  then,  when  you  reach  the  table,  he 
pushes  the  chair  at  you  from  behind,  and  strikes  you 
on  the  inside  hinge  of  the  knee  with  force  enough  to 
jar  the  cotton  out  of  your  ears.  You  have  to  sit  down 
whether  you  desire  to  do  so  or  not.  As  soon  as  the 
waiter  has  got  you  in  the  chair,  he  hands  you  the  bill  of 
fare  and  assumes  an  expression  of  countenance  that  is 
calculated  to  create  the  impression  that  he  can  read. 

The  memory  of  the  average  waiter  is  extraordinary. 
Some  say  that  it  is  because,  like  some  men's  consciences, 
it  is  never  used,  but  that  is  not  so. 

It  is  wonderful  to  see  him  standing  solemnly  and  re- 
spectfully attentive  behind  a  drummer's  chair,  while  the 
hungry  drummer  reads  off  his  selections,  something  in 
the  following  style:  "  Consomme  of  macaroni;  baked 
red  snapper  with  brown  sauce;  sugar-cured  tongue; 
green  goose  with  apple  sauce  (and  don't  forget  the 
apple  sauce,  you  son-of-a-gun);  roast  beef  (an  outside 
piece  cut  thin);  fricasse  rabbit,  farmers'  style;  baked 
macaroni  au  parmesan;  braized  pigeon  a  la  Jardinere  (just 
a  very  small  piece  of  the  pigeon,  but  bring  dead  oodles 
of  the  a  la  Jardinere)-^  tripe  fried  in  batter,  with  tomato 
sauce;  onions;  Lima  beans;  mashed  potatoes;  squash, 
and  chow-chow."  It  is  still  more  wonderful  to  see  the 
waiter  return  after  an  absence  of  forty-five  minutes — 
during  which  time  the  drummer  drinks  three  glasses  of 
ice- water  by  way  of  entertaining  his  stomach  while  wait- 
ing— with  an  entirely  different  assortment  of  food.  This 
is  where  evidences  of  his  wonderful  memory  shine  forth 
like  a  parlor  match  in  a  dark  pantry.  He  remembers 
to  forget  everything  ordered  except,  perhaps,  mashed 
potatoes  or  roast  beef,  but  that  is  seldom  his  fault,  the 
chief  cook  having  packed  them  inadvertently  with  the 
rest  of  the  goods.     If  you  want  roast  beef,  your  be?'' 


74  SKETCHES    FROM 

chance  to  get  it  is  to  order  fried  tripe  or  pig's  feet,  and 
if  you  want  turnips  and  lettuce,  the  only  safe  way  to 
get  in  conjunction  with  them  is  to  order  up  all  the 
vegetables,  relishes,  and  ent7'ees  in  the  house,  and  then 
you  have  the  satisfaction  of  finding  that  the  only  place 
to  find  them  in  town  is  on  the  bill  of  fare.  "Just  out 
ob  dem,  sah,  very  sorry,  sah,"  the  waiter  says,  as  he 
hands  you  the  mustard  and  smiles  in  a  conciliatory  way. 
And  that  brings  us  to  smiles.  The  colored  waiter  is  all 
smiles.  He  smiles  on  the  slightest  provocation,  whereas 
the  white  waiter  of  the  North  never  smiles. 

The  ordinary  colored  waiter  sometimes  becomes  a 
head-waiter,  after  which  he  never  smiles  ;  but  with  his 
arms  folded,  a  la  Napoleon,  on  the  Island  of  St.  Hel- 
ena, assumes  a  solemn  and  dignified  position  in  the 
middle  of  the  dining-room. 

— ^-^<3o<^ — 

LATEST    GEOGRAPHICAL    INTELLIGENCE. 

"Where  is  the  island  of  Java  situated?"  asked  an 
Austin  school  teacher  of  a  small,  rather  forlorn-looking 
boy. 

"  I  dunno,  sir." 

"Don't  you  know  where  coffee  comes  from?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  we  borrows  it  ready  parched  from  the  next 
door  neighbor." 

An  old  Texan  veteran  called  in  to  see  us  yesterday, 
and  he  stated  positively  that  he  did  not  capture  Santa 
Anna  at  the  Battle  of  San  Jacinto.  As  he  is  the  first 
old  Texan  we  have  ever  met  who  did  not  capture 
Santa  Anna,  there  is  something  very  strange  about  it. 
We  are  afraid  he  is  an  awful  liar,  but  perhaps  he  was 
only  drunk.     We  do  not  wish  to  do  him  injustice. 


TEXAS    SIFTINGSr 


75 


THE     STATISTICAL     CRANK 


Of  all  kinds  of  cranks  the  statisti- 
cal crank  is,  to  ordinary  people,  the 
most  oppressive.  He  knows,  or  pre- 
tends to  know,  the  facts  and  figures 
about  everything.  When  he  was  a 
boy  he  was  said  to  have  had  "  a  head 
for  figures,"  and  was  credited  with 
having  a  "mathematical  turn  of 
mind."  To  him  the  line  of  beauty 
was  a  row  of  figures,  andthe  favorite 
poems  of  his  youth  were  logarithms. 
When  other  boys  were  engaged  in 
mumble-peg  and  leap-frog  pursuits, 
he  was  absorbed  with  divisors,  quo- 
tients, and  multiplicands  in  the  hi- 
larious pastime  of  seeing  how  many 
vulgar  fractions  he  could  get  on  a 
slate,  and  in  investigating  the  cube  root  of  the  star 
route  distance  between  the  earth  and  the  planet  Mars, 
or  in  some  other  equally  unnatural  arithmetical  dissi- 
pation. 

The  statistical  crank  can  give  the  figures  on  any- 
thing, from  the  number  of  bricks  (without  straw)  that 
the  Israelites  made  while  in  Egypt — on  the  supposition 
that  they  worked  ten  hours  a  day — to  the  number  of 
miles  that  the  average  woman  will  walk  while  looking 
for  her  scissors,  during  an  ordinary  life-time. 

He  is  very  precise  as  to  details.  An  ordinary  man 
will  tell  you  that  the  cotton  crop   of    1881  was   about 


76  SKETCHES    FROM 

six  million  bales.  The  statistical  crank  will  tell  you 
that  it  was  5,987,542  bales,  averaging  489  lbs.  each. 
His  strong  point  is  in  telling  you  how  many  times 
something  or  other,  if  laid  end  to  end,  would  reach 
around  the  world.  One  of  them  told  us,  the  other  day, 
that  he  had  made  a  calculation  which  showed  that  if 
one  issue  of  Texas  Sif tings  was  spread  out,  each  copy 
separately,  that  a  man  could  walk  in  a  straight  line 
for  nineteen  and  a  half  miles  without  getting  off  the 
paper.  No  doubt  his  calculation  was  correct,  and  if 
we  were  a  carpet  factory  it  might  be  useful;  but  as  no 
one  except  a  lunatic  would  care  to  walk  nineteen  and 
and  a  half  miles  over  a  stripe  of  Texas  Sif  tings,  in  such 
weather  as  we  are  having  at  present,  and  as  we  are  not 
selling  our  paper  by  the  yard  or  mile,  we  cannot  see 
what  profit  or  object  there  can  be  in  making  such  cal- 
culations. 

The  statistical  crank  is  very  much  given  to  figuring 
out  how  much  could  be  done  with  the  money  spent  in 
different  forms  of  dissipation,  and  in  the  purchase  of 
certain  luxuries,  provided  it  was  saved  and  used  in 
some  other  way.  He  will  tell  you  how  many  loaves  of 
bread  could  be  furnished  to  the  poor  with  the  money 
that  could  be  saved  if  everybody  stopped  smoking;  or 
the  number  of  degraded  heathen  in  foreign  lands  that 
could  each  have  a  Bible  laid  down,  freight  prepaid,  at 
their  door,  with  the  amount  of  wealth  annually  spent 
in  tobacco.  He  always  fails,  however,  to  give  you  fig- 
ures regarding  the  small  number  of  ex-smokers  that 
would  be  likely  to  use  the  money  saved  from  cigars  and 
tobacco,  in  filling  up  the  poor  with  loaves,  or  in  adding 
Bibles  to  the  scanty  library  of  the  heathen. 

He  usually  prides  himself  on  having  a  memory  equal 
to  that  of  Magliabecchi,  and  when  he  shuts  his  eye  and 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  77 

elevates  his  index  finger,  while  he  goes  down  into  the 
recesses  of  one  of  his  mental  pigeon-holes  to  find  the 
day  of  the  month  that  Noah  landed  on  Mount  Arrarat, 
and  the  exact  tonnage  of  the  Ark,  or  some  such  figures 
of  vital  interest,  you  see  him  in  his  most  interesting 
mood  and  graceful  attitude  (see  illustration),  and 
if  you  do  not  get  away  right  then,  on  the  pretext 
of  having  a  letter  to  send  off  on  the  northern  mail,  you 
will,  in  all  probability,  have  your  mind  seriously  im- 
paired in  trying  to  follow  his  argument  that  England's 
supremacy  is  on  the  wane,  "  because,  sir,  her  imports 
exceed  her  exports  by  one  million  three  hundred  and 
seventy  pounds,  eleven  shillings  and  eight  pence  ster- 
ling per  annum,  sir." 

The  Hon.  F.  D.  Coburn  is  one  of  the  most  gifted 
statistical  cranks  that  we  have  heard  of  lately.  He 
publishes,  in  the  American  Agriculturist,  a  calculation  in 
which  he  shows  that  if  the  food  annually  given  to  dogs 
in  the  United  States  was  saved,  it  would  feed  286,002 
hogs,  and  these  hogs  would  weigh  85,800,600  pounds 
of  pork,  would  fill  2,860  freight  cars,  and  would  sell  for 
$4,700,012.  He  goes  on  to  show  that  this  money  would 
endow  171  colleges,  build  315  hospitals,  or  6,506  school 
houses,  and  pay  11,231  school  teachers,  and  that  it 
would  also  furnish  a  hymn-book  to  every  unconverted 
sinner  in  the  land. 

These  calculations  have  depressed  us  very  much,  for 
we  have  always  loved  dogs,  and  as  we  count  up  the 
dogs  we  owned,  and  thoughtlessly  and  wickedly  fed, 
we  see  visions  of  unbuilt  hospitals,  unendowed  colleges, 
and  a  depleted  free  school  fund,  for  all  of  Avhich,  ac- 
cording to  the  Hon.  Coburn,  we  are  accountable,  and 
in  the  future,  when  we  "give  our  poor  dog  a  bone,"  a 
sense  of  guilt  will  steal  over  us  as  we  realize  that  we  are 


78 


SKETCHES  EROM 


actually  robbing  the  larder  of  some  hungry  school 
teacher,  and  when  we  give  the  pup  a  plateful  of  scraps 
we  will  feel  as  if  he  was  gnawing  a  collection  of  short- 
metre  hymns  that  really  belonged  to  some  hymnless 
member  of  an  unbuilt  church. 


DISSATISFIED    ENGLISHMEN    IN    TEXAS. 


Almost  all  ani= 
mals,  when  trans- 
ferred to  a  strange 
country  and  cli- 
mate, will  adapt 
themselve  s — in 
habits,  mode  of  life, 
etc. — to  their  sur- 
roundings. The 
Englishman  is  an 
exception.  When  he  is  met  in  the  United  States  he  is 
at  once  recognized  by  a  sort  of  Rule  Britannia  expres- 
sion of  countenance  that  he  does  not  attempt  to  dis- 
guise, and  by  his  incessant  grumbling.  The  British 
Constitution  gives  every  free-born  Englishman  the  right 
to  grumble,  and  his  veneration  for  the  aforesaid  British 
Constitution  is  only  equaled  by  the  tenacity  with  which 
he  clings  to  the  right  accorded  him.  A  great  many 
Britons  come  to  Texas,  and  suffer  dreadful  hardships, 
owing  to  the  fact  that  Texas  differs  in  many  respects 
from  England.  There  are  no  fogs,  nor  paupers,  nor  in- 
cendiary Irishmen  in  Texas,  nor  is  there  a  branch  office 
of  the  London  Times  to  write  complaints  to,  so  the 
Englishman  on  a  foreign  shore  is  unhappy. 

Thanks  to  the  enterprise  of  the  Sunset  Route  people. 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  79 

and  the  descriptive  eloquence  of  Dr.  Kingsbury,  their 
agent  in  England,  Western  Texas  is  filling  up  rapidly 
with  dissatisfied  English  immigrants,  who  come  over 
here  to  assist  in  developing  the  resources  of  our  State. 
After  they  have  been  here  a  few  weeks,  however,  they 
are  apt  to  develop  a  disposition  to  go  back.  They  flock 
to  the  office  of  the  Sunset  Route  in  San  Antonio,  lift  up 
their  voices  and  weep,  until  Col.  Andrews,  the  Vice- 
President  of  the  road,  prays  fervently  that  the  day  may 
come  when  he  can  lay  his  hand  on  Dr.  Kingsbury. 
The  lamentations  of  Jeremiah  are  joyful  carols  com- 
pared to  the  lamentations  those  Englishmen  get  off  in 
Col.  Andrews'  office.  There  is  only  one  place  in  this 
world  where  there  is  more  wailing,  weeping  and  gnash- 
ing of  teeth  than  in  Col.  Andrews'  office.  The  other 
place  is  in  Jerusalem,  There  is  a  portion  of  the  foun- 
dation wall  of  Solomon's  temple  still  visible  in  Jerusalem. 
At  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  all  orthodox  Jews  from 
Poland,  and  other  parts  of  Europe,  make  a  pilgrimage 
to  that  old  wall,  and  after  reciting  a  mournful  litany, 
they  wail,  tear  their  hair,  throw  themselves  on  the 
ground,  and  go  on  as  if  they  had  several  large  sized  red 
ants  concealed  in  their  underwear.  Well,  that's  the  way 
it  is  almost  every  day  in  Col.  Andrews'  office.  He  gets 
so  mad  that  for  weeks  it  is  not  safe  for  a  San  Antonio 
journalist  to  apply  to  have  have  his  pass  renewed.  The 
Colonel  has  a  small  bottle  full  of  genuine  London  fog 
that  he  imported,  and  he  allows  homesick  Englishmen 
to  smell  the  bottle.  It  is  said  to  be  a  touching  sight  to 
see  a  florid  Englishman,  with  a  mournful  look  in  his 
tearful  eyes,  howling  over  a  pint  of  the  British  atmos- 
phere. 

Some  day  we  are  going  to  entice  Colonel  Andrews 
out  into  the  woods   and   persuade  him,  with   a  gun,  tq 


So  SKETCHES  FROM 

tell  all  he  knows  about  English  immigration  to  Texas, 
and  after  we  have  drawn  it  all  out  of  him,  we  shall 
publish  it  in  book  form,  and  make  a  fortune  out  of  it. 

Our  artist  has  given  lifelike  portraits  of  two  English- 
men who  came  to  Austin  last  year.  They  were  arrested 
while  prowling  about  the  suburbs,  loaded  down  with 
fire-arms,  and  asking  everybody  they  met  to  show  them 
where  they  could  get  a  shot  at  a  herd  of  wild  buffalo. 
They  were  supposed  to  be  insane  and  dangerous,  and 
our  sketch  represents  the  expression  of  their  faces  on 
being  disarmed,  and  told  there  were  no  wild  buffalo 
within  a  thousand  miles  of  Austin. 

The  dissatisfied  English  immigrant  may  be  divided 
into  two  classes.  The  contented  English  immigrant 
can  only  be  divided  into  one  class.  He  is  not  numerous 
enough  to  divide  into  more  than  one  class.  There  are 
two  distinct  kinds  of  dissatisfied  English  immigrants. 
There  is,  first,  the  dissatisfied  immigrant  of  high  degree, 
while  the  other  class  is  composed  of  those  of  low  de- 
gree. The  only  redeeming  feature  of  the  immigrant  of 
low  degree  is  that  he  is  never  sober.  He  is  willing, 
however,  be  it  said  to  his  credit,  to  do  anything  for  a 
living  except  work.  It  was  to  get  away  from  anything 
savoring  of  toil  that  he  came  to  Texas.  He  could  get 
more  work  than  he  wanted  at  home.  When  he  is  sick 
at  his  stomach,  and  has  no  appetite,  he  goes  to  Col.  An- 
drews for  advice,  and  when  he  has  got  a  big  appetite 
he  also  goes  to  Col.  Andrews  for  advice,  and  usually 
charges  the  Colonel  from  a  quarter  up  tO'  five  dollars 
for  all  such  advice.  The  weather  is  never  at  the  right 
temperature,  even  if  he  wanted  to  work.  In  the  cotton 
picking  season  it  is  too  ''  'ot,"  and  in  the  winter  it  is 
"  too  blarsted  cold,  ye  know."  What  eventually  becomes 
of  the  dissatisfied  English  immigrant  of  low  degree  is 


''TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  8i 

somewhat  of  a  mystery,  but  there  is  reason  to  believe 
that  he  goes  to  swell  the  grand  army  of  tramps.  He  has 
fine  natural  qualifications  for  that  business. 

The  dissatisfied  English  immigrant  of  high  degree  is 
an  entirely  different  kind  of  valuable  acquisition.  He 
makes  people  believe  that  he  has  had  a  high  position 
in  the  army,  and  is  closely  related  to  a  noble  family  of 
high  rank,  and  he  hints  that  it  is  a  matter  of  uncer- 
tainty how  soon  he  will  fall  heir  to  a  princely  fortune 
and  a  title.  He  is  correct  about  this  being  a  matter 
of  uncertainty.  It  is  very  uncertain.  The  immigrant 
is  charmed  with  everything  he  sees  in  Texas.  He  is 
even  charmed  with  Gibbs,  the  genial  freight  agent,  and 
pats  Col.  Andrews  on  the  back,  and  calls  him  "  'Arry." 
Col.  De  Berkely,  we  will  call  him,  for  that  sounds  very 
much  like  his  real  name,  is  all  the  rage  for  a  month  or 
so,  after  which  he  becomes  a  major-general  in  the 
ranks  of  dissatisfied  English  immigrants.  He  sneers  at 
New  Philadelphia,  the  Texas  Rugby.  When  in  his 
cups,  he  tells  Gibbs  confidentially  that  you  can  see  at 
a  glance  that  Col.  Andrews  is  not  of  noble  birth — that 
there  is  no  style  about  him.  Somebody  tells  Col.  An- 
drews what  Col.  De  Berkely  has  said,  and  there  is  a 
perceptible  coolness.  In  the  meantime,  De  Berkely 
owes  large  sums  to  all  the  San  Antonio  tradesmen  who 
were  so  fortunate  as  to  secure  his  custom.  His  remit- 
tances fiom  England  are  mysteriously  delayed  on  the 
road.  He  imparts  family  secrets,  that  involve  royal 
personages  of  high  degree  in  England,  to  San  Antonio 
saloon  keepers,  with  whom  he  has  credit.  When  sober 
enough  to  do  so,  he  indites  long  letters  to  leading 
English  papers,  denouncing  everybody  connected  with 
the  Sunset  Route,  from  Col.  Pierce  to  the  humblest 
brakesman,  in  consequence  of  which  Dr.  Kingsbury,  in 


82  SKETCHES    FROM 

London,  has  to  hire  a  hall  and  explain  to  the  aroused 
British  public  all  about  the  mosquitoes  at  New  Phil- 
adelphia, and  the  Texas  malaria,  which,  so  Col.  De 
Berkely  writes,  gets  into  the  legs  of  the  newly-arrived 
English  immigrant.  Finally,  much  to  the  relief  of 
everybody,  except  those  who  advanced  him  credit  and 
money.  Col.  De  Berkely  disappears.  It  is  whispered 
around  that  Col.  Andrews  has  had  him  kidnapped  and 
drowned  for  saying  that  he,  Andrews,  had  no  style 
about  him;  but  De  Berkely  turns  up  all  right  in  Eng- 
land, where  he  bewilders  poor  Kingsbury  with  a  men- 
dacious description  of  Western  Texas. 

There  are  some  few  Englishmen  in  Texas  who  are 
jolly  good  fellows,  but  the  most  of  those  who  come  to 
Texas  are  not  the  kind  of  immigrants  that  Texas  yearns 
for. 

— «-^<2<<^ — 

PINAFORE    REVIVED. 

Last  week  a  strapping  negro  woman  was  up  before 
an  Austin  justice,  charged  with  unmercifully  beating 
her  boy,  a  saddle-colored  imp. 

"  I  don't  understand  how  you  can  have  the  heart  to 
treat  your  own  child  so  cruelly." 

"  Jedge,  has  you  been  a  parent  of  a  wufless  yaller 
boy  like  dat  ar  cub  of  mine?" 

"  Never — no,  never! "  ejaculated  the  judge,  with 
great  vehemence,  getting  red  in  the  face. 

"Den  don't  talk." 

There  was  such  a  sensation  in  court  that  the  judge 
had  to  call  "  next  "  four  or  five  times,  and  to  fine  a  man 
who  said  "Hardly  ever,"  fifty  dollars,  before  order 
was  restored. 


TEX  A  S    SIF  TINGS, 


83 


OBITUARY. 


The  birds  that  men  love,  die  young." — Milton. 


The  day  of 
thanksgiving  is 
past.  Our  thanks- 
giving bird  is  dead. 
After  life's  fitful  fe- 
ver he  proved  to  be 
quite  fat.  He  pass- 
ed peacefully  away 
on  the  23d  ultimo, 
and  on  the  next  evening  his  remains,  accompanied  by 
a  large  circle  of  appreciative  admirers  and  cranberry 
sauce,  were  laid  away  never  more  to  be  seen  by  mortal 
eyes.  He  was  a  noble  specimen  of  his  race,  and  we 
who  knew  him  best,  loved  him  for  his  many  excellent 
qualities.  We  found  him  full  of  generous  impulses 
and  stuffing;  he  had  a  warm  heart,  and  he  was  liberal 
to  a  fault — in  the  matter  of  gravy. 

The  sketch  of  the  deceased,  as  he  lay  in  the  cata- 
falque just  prior  to  the  obsequies,  was  made  by  our  spe- 
cial artist,  and  we  take  a  sad  pleasure  in  presenting  it 
at  the  head  of  this  notice.  We  feel  the  full  force  of  our 
bereavement  when  we  realize  that  we  can  never  look 
on  the  original  of  the  picture  again.  He  was  born  on 
Onion  creek,  in  the  spring  of  Anno  Domini  1881,  spent 
his  early  days  out  in  the  brush,  roosted  at  night  in 
Judge  Tiff  Johnson's  barnyard,  and  sometime  prior  to 
his  death  gave  almost  his  undivided  attention  to  a  neigh 
bor  s  sugar  cane  patch.     None  knew  the  deceased  more 


84  SKETCHES    FROM 

intimately  than  we  did — we  were  with  him  in  his  last 
moments,  and  with  our  own  hands  performed  the  last 
sad  rites  of  tying  his  legs  together.  It  therefore  seems 
fitting  that  we  should  pay  this  tribute  to  his  worth. 

The  hapless  defunct  was  cut  off  in  the  prime  of  life, 
and  in  the  woodshed. 

Now,  as  we  stand  full  of  thankfulness,  and  a  large 
piece  of  his  second  joint,  we  feel  that  it  is  our  privi- 
lege to  drop  a  silent  tear  in  his  memory,  while  our 
heart  is  filled  with  sorrow  because  there  is  nothing 
left  of  him  but 


oM^Oo<2^^>og>^-<,~ 


AN    INFALLIBLE    TEST. 


*'You  can  get  Texas  Sif tings  from  any  respectable 
newsdealer  in  the  United  States,"  remarked  one  of  the 
Sifters  to  a  man  who  was  going  to  travel,  and  did  not 
know  what  his  address  would  be. 

"  But  who  are  the  respectable  newsdealers? "  asked 
the  party. 

"  You  will  never  have  any  trouble  finding  that  out. 
The  respectable  newsdealers  are  the  ones  who  keep 
Ttxas  Si/ti?igs." 


TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  85 


HEAVEN. 


When  poor  Artemus  Ward,  whose  heart  was  as  ten- 
der as  his  life  was  pure,  died  in  England,  a  touching 
piece  of  obituary  poetry  appeared  in  a  prominent  En- 
glish newspaper,  the  first  lines  of  which  read: 

He  has  gone  to  the  land  where  there's  no  laughter. 
He  who  made  mirth  for  us  all. 

That  Browne,  for  that  was  his  proper  name,  died  in 
the  odor  of  sanctity  we  are  not  prepared  to  say,  but  the 
idea  sought  to  be  conveyed  in  the  lines  quoted  is  that 
he  went  to  the  place  where  the  good  people  usually  go, 
and  that  it  was  a  land  where  everything  like  hilarity 
w^as  forbidden  by  city  ordinance,  as  it  were.  That  was 
the  poet's  idea  of  Heaven,  and  over-looking  Browne's  hu- 
morous career,  and  his  tendency  to  levity,  the  poet  kind- 
ly enrolled  him  among  the  citizens  of  the  "land  where 
there's  no  laughter." 

Different  people  have  different  ideas  of  Heaven. 
Even  different  bodies  of  Christians  do  not  agree  precise- 
ly as  to  what  kind  of  a  place  Heaven  is.  The  over- 
worked, worn-out  man — and  he  is  in  the  majority — feels 
positive  that  Heaven  means  rest,  and  rest  means  Heaven. 
The  mortal  who  has  suffered  from  the  stings  of  poverty, 
can  not  well  separate  his  idea  of  Heaven  from  that  of 
pecuniary  independence.  To  the  invalid.  Heaven  means 
health.  The  Indian's  idea  of  Heaven  is  a  happy  hunt- 
ing ground,  where  there  are  more  buffalo  and  fewer 
white  men  than  he  finds  on  this  planet.  That  is  what 
the  Indian  wants  to  make  him  happy.  To  be  perfectly 
happy,  however,  he  would  require  an  occasional  United 


S6  SKETCHES    EROM 

States  soldier  to  torture  and  scalp.  Even  in  Heaven 
the  poor  Indian  craves  for  a  little  amusement.  The 
Moslem's  Heaven  has  been  described  as  being  made  up 
principally  of  black  eyes  and  lemonade?  He,  too,  how- 
ever, would  feel  more  at  home  if  he  were  furnished  with 
an  occasional  "  dog  of  an  infidel  "  to  put  to  the  sword, 
as  suggested  by  the  Koran.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  the 
South  Sea  Islander's  dream  of  bliss  includes  a  tender 
young  missionary  for  culinary  purposes  among  the  at- 
tractions of  his  Heaven.  Besides  having  a  Heaven  fixed 
up  to  their  own  liking,  most  persons  have  another  place 
fixed  up  for  the  special  accommodation  of  those  who 
do  not  worship  in  the  same  church  with  them.  There 
is  in  all  men,  to  a  greater  or  less  degree,  a  latent  yearn- 
ing to  make  it  unpleasant,  both  here  and  hereafter,  for 
those  who  have  the  bad  taste  to  dissent  from  their 
peculiar  views  on  theological  and  political  topics.  Mark 
Twain  illustrated  this  idea  very  neatly  in  his  reply  to 
the  question  as  to  his  belief  in  eternal  punishment.  He 
said  that  he  believed  most  emphatically  in  everlasting 
and  eternal  punishment,  provided  he  was  allowed  to 
pick  the  men  for  punishment. 

But  let  us  return  to  "the  land  where  there's  no 
laughter."  There  are  in  every  denomination  of  Chris- 
tians, a  great  many  people  who  not  only  believe,  but 
fervently  hope  that — there  is  a  land  where  there  is  no 
laughter,  and  that  they  will  get  to  it.  There  are  also 
many  infidels  who  are  cheered  up  in  their  earthly  pil- 
grimage by  the  same  hope.  There  have  been  saints 
whose  spirits  were  so  lovely  and  cheerful  that  they  were 
really  too  good  for  this  world,  and  there  have  been 
alleged  saints  who,  suffering  like  Carlyle  from  indiges- 
tion, were  more  like  devils  than  anything  else.  Some 
of  the  heroes  of  the   Reformation  were   as  vicious  as 


"  TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  87 

Mahomet  himself.  These,  of  course,  have  no  use  for  a 
Heaven  where  there  is  anything  savoring  of  good  humor. 
If  they  ever  were  to  reach  Heaven,  which  is  extremely 
problematical,  and  they  were  to  discover  any  signs  of 
genuine  happiness,  they  would  regard  themselves  as 
having  been  swindled. 

So  Artemus  Ward  has  been  consigned  without  his 
being  consulted,  to  "  the  land  where  there's  no  laughter." 
Let  us  sift  this  matter  a  little.  Assuming  that  there  will 
be  a  resurrection,  and  that  the  good  will  inhabit  Heaven 
in  the  body,  let  us  discard  the  theories  of  the  followers, 
and  see  w^hat  the  great  founder  of  Christianity  has  to 
say.  It  will  be  discovered,  according  to  that  high  au- 
thority, that  there  will  be  a  holier  sound  in  Heaven  than 
the  chanted  litany  of  the  cowled  monk,  or  the  pious  war- 
cries  of  the  Puritan.  If  this  be  not  so,  then  the  docu- 
ment on  which  their  chain  of  title  is  based  is  a  sham. 
Have  these  wise  men  who  feel  so  confident  that  there  is 
no  laughter  in  Heaven,  forgotten  what  Christ  said  about 
little  children?  Have  those  sacred  and  comforting 
words,  "and  of  such  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,"  entire- 
ly slipped  from  their  memories,  or  do  they  not  know  that 
a  little  child  that  did  not  laugh  would  be  like  a  sun 
that  did  not  shine?  Therefore,  most  wise  and  reverend 
sir,  your  Master  having  put  little  children,  laughter  and 
all,  in  Heaven,  how  are  you  going  to  get  them  out? 


0-^<^3«Sl^5sSK^>^ 


One  of  the  Galveston  clergymen  recently  preached  a 
thrilling  sermon  on  the  wickedness  of  Sodom.  A 
stranger  from  Chicago  went  out  during  the  middle  of 
the  sermon,  and  shed  bitter  tears.  The  sermon  made 
him  homesick.     He  left  on  the  next  train  for  Chicago. 


SKETCHES    FROM 


THE     TEXAS     DESPERADO. 


The  reputation  for 
lawlessness  that  Tex- 
as has  among  the  peo- 
ple of  some  of  the 
northern  and  eastern 
states,  is  not  the  re- 
sult of  the  Sam  Bass 
and  Wesley  Hardin 
sort  of  outlaw  and 
their  lawless  deeds, 
but  rather  the  result 
of  the  visits  that  Tex* 
as  enjoys  from  the 
peaceful  but  imagi- 
native young  man 
who  comes  from  some 
virtuous  eastern  city  to  spend  the  winter,  for  the  ben- 
efit of  his  health,  in  Western  Texas.  Before  coming  to 
Texas  he  has  read  a  good  deal  of  the  ^'  One-Eyed- 
Zeke-the-Scout,"  and  "  Dick,  the  Desperado,"  sort  of 
literature.  Previous  to  the  packing  of  his  trunk,  he 
provides  himself  with  some  guns,  a  few  revolvers,  and 
a  double-edged  weapon  with  a  spring  back  and  a  blade 
like  a  hay-knife.  The  latter  he  proposes  using  when- 
ever it  may  be  necessary  to  cut  his  way  through  the 
jungle,  or  when  fate  may  put  it  in  his  power  to  rescue 
some  beautiful  pale-face  maiden  from  her  redskin 
captors.  He  has  rehearsed  the  thing  so  often  in  his 
mind,  that  he  knows   exactly   how  the  incidents   will 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  89 

follow  each  other  in  rapid  succession — how  he  will 
steal  up  on  the  unsuspecting  sons  of  the  forest  as  they 
are  preparing  to  torture  their  victim;  how  he  will  rush 
in  on  the  foe,  and,  first  cutting  the  rawhide  thongs  that 
bind  the  captive,  turn,  and,  with  his  trusty  knife,  pile 
up  a  cord  or  two  of  dead  Indians;  how  he  will  seize  the 
captive  maiden — the  beautiful  Inez  de  Gonzales, 
daughter  of  a  Spanish  hidalgo — and,  vaulting  on  the 
back  of  a  coal-black  mustang,  etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

He  tells  the  boys  at  home  what  he  is  going  to  do, 
and  he  promises  that  he  will  bring  back  scalps,  wam- 
pum, wigwams,  Indian  mounds,  and  other  bric-a-brac, 
and  present  them  to  his  friends  as  mementoes  of  his 
sojourn  in  Texas.  When  he  arrives  in  Texas  he  is  dis- 
gusted to  find  schools,  faro-banks,  newspapers,  church 
scandals,  and  other  evidences  of  civilization.  To  the 
first  man  who  will  buy,  he  sells  some  of  his  revolvers, 
and  secretly  drops  his  hay-knife  into  a  well.  He  lives 
a  quiet,  uneventful  life  at  a  boarding-house,  where  he 
eats  the  best  canned  goods  that  the  market  and  his 
landlady  can  afford  for  $6  a  week,  and  never  meets 
with  any  more  exciting  adventure  than  being  arrested 
and  fined  for  carrying  a  pistol. 

When  his  father  sends  him  money  enough  to  buy  a 
railroad  ticket,  he  goes  back  home  in  the  spring,  wear- 
ing a  broad-brimmed  hat — which  he  ostentatiously 
calls  a  sombrero — and  jangling  a  huge  pair  of  Mexican 
spurs  at  his  heels.  This  is  the  time  when  he  develops 
into  the  noted  Texas  desperado — about  the  only  des- 
perado Texas  can  now  lay  claim  to.  Before  retiring 
on  the  first  night  of  his  return  home,  he  asks  his  moth- 
er to  just  lay  a  blanket  beside  a  tree-box  on  the  side- 
walk, and  he  will  try  and  borrow  an  old  saddle  or  a 
brick  for  a  pillow.     He  is  so  accustomed  to  sleeping  in 


90  SKETCHES  FROM 

the  open  air,  he  says,  that  he  cannot  bear  the  close 
confinement  of  a  house.  When  the  boys  call  around 
for  the  scalps,  Indian  mounds  and  things  that  he 
promised  to  bring  them  from  Texas,  he  tells  them  how 
he  lost,  in  a  border  foray,  a  large  Saratoga  trunk  filled 
with  scalps,  and  a  gripsack  packed  full  of  wampum 
and  wigwams.  Then  he  gives  them  a  thrilling  account 
of  a  prairie  fire,  and  how  he  saved  his  life  by  crawling 
into  the  carcass  of  a  buffalo  he  had  slain,  until  the  fire 
passed  over  and  exhausted  itself.  After  this  he  re- 
counts a  desperate  encounter  he  had  with  a  stage- 
robber,  and  gives  a  detailed  and  hair-curdling  descrip- 
tion of  a  scene  at  a  lynching,  where  he  got  the  drop 
on  the  crowd,  and  rescued  the  doomed  man.  His  con- 
versation bristles  with  profanity,  and  is  saturated  with 
gore.  The  writer  of  this  has  been  ten  years  in  Texas, 
has  been  among  the  chivalrous  Mexicans  on  the  Rio 
Grande,  the  aesthetic  cowboys  on  the  plains,  and  the 
wild  and  hilarious  church  members  in  the  cities,  and 
has  not  yet  seen  a  single  pistol  fired  with  intent  to  in- 
jure a  human  being,  nor  has  he  ever  seen  a  buffalo 
goring  Sunday-school  children  on  the  streets  on  any 
city  of  Texas;  and  the  only  genuine,  blood-thirsty  des- 
perado he  has  seen  was  the  young  man  above  de- 
scribed. Of  course  there  are  some  lawless  and  desper- 
ate men  in  Texas,  but  none  of  them  equals  the  tender- 
foot from  the  east  for  cold-blooded  ferocity — after  he 
gets  back  home. 


Talmage  says  "  men  of  talent  and  commanding  in- 
tellect are  never  good  dancers."  That  is  the  first  time 
we  have  seen  any  public  allusion  to  our  awkwardness  in 
dancing. 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS: 


91 


MEXICAN     BULL- FIGHTS. 


This  is  the  season  of  the  year  when  the  Mexicans  on 
the  Rio  Grande  improve  their  minds  with  ^^j-^^j-.  The 
redeeming  features  of  \y\^  fiesta  are  drunkenness,  gam- 
bling and  bull-fighting.  But  occasionally  they  fight 
with  knives,  besides.  Another  redeeming  feature  is 
that  while  the  fiesta  is  going  on,  the  Mexicans  have  not 
got  any  time  to  waste  in  expediting  the  ranches  of 
their  stock.  Expedite  is  a  Star-Route  term,  and  means 
to  steal.  .  Nobody  can  gamble,  get  drunk,  go  to  bull- 
fights, and  steal  ponies  at  one  and  the  same  time,  and 
the  Mexican  who  tries  it  is  likely  to  neglect  some  of  his 
duties.  At  Laredo  and  El  Paso,  owing  to  the  com- 
pletion of  railroads  to  those  points,  the  Mexicans  have 
received  considerable  assistance  from  the  Americans  in 
properly  celebrating  the  fiestas.  There  were,  perhaps, 
not  so  many  Americans,  but  they  helped  a  great  deal. 


92  SKETCHES  FROM 

They  are  very  willing.  It  takes  five  or  six  Mexicans  to 
get  as  drunk  and  make  as  much  fuss  as  one  hardy 
Anglo-Saxon.  The  latter  throws  more  soul  into  the 
performance.     He  can  be  heard  several  miles  off. 

The  most  peculiar  feature  of  the  fiesta  is  the  bull- 
fight, which  takes  place  in  an  amphitheater  built  for  the 
purpose.  It  will  hold  a  great  many  people,  probably 
as  many  as  can  get  into  it.  The  board  fence  that  sep- 
arates the  audience  from  the  arena  is  so  arranged  that 
the  bull-fighter  can  climb  up  on  it  where  the  bull  can- 
not reach  him.  This  fence  enables  the  bull-fighter  to 
show  his  contempt  for  danger,  and  he  makes  liberal  use 
of  his  opportunities.  The  bull-fighters  are  dressed  in 
all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow.  They  look  very  much 
like  the  face  cards  of  the  pack  enlarged.  It  is  really 
funny  to  see  the  jack  of  diamonds,  the  king  of  hearts, 
and  all  the  rest  of  the  royal  family  that  are  so  familiar 
to  many  of  our  readers,  prancing  about  the  arena. 

In  reality,  there  is  no  bull-fight  at  all.  There  is 
more  real  danger  in  lighting  a  kerosene  lamp,  or  in  call- 
ing a  policeman  a  liar,  than  there  is  in  a  dozen  bull- 
fights. Before  the  bull  is  presented  with  the  freedom 
of  the  arena,  several  inches  of  his  horns  are  sawed  off. 
As  with  some  folks  we  know  of,  it  hurts  the  bull  to 
have  his  horns  cut  off.  If  a  heroic  bull-fighter  should  lose 
his  presence  of  mind,  and  in  his  efforts  to  get  out  of  the 
arena  run  against  the  bull,  a  dull  horn  is  the  kind  of  a 
horn  the  reckless  dare-devil  wants  to  run  against;  but 
there  is  no  danger  of  that.  The  horns  are  sawed  off 
down  to  the  quick,  and  are  actually  bloody.  The  end 
of  the  horn  is  as  sensitive  to  the  bull  as  an  army-sized 
boil  is  to  a  man.  If  a  man  has  a  large  boil  on  his  per- 
son, he  does  not  try  to  butt  people  with  it.  On  the 
contrary,  he  is  very  careful  that  nobody  hits  against  it. 


"  TEXAS     SIFTINGSr  93 

That's  the  way  it  is  with  the  bull  with  the  sore  horn. 
Instead  of  rushing  about,  trying  to  impale  the  bull 
fighter,  the  bull  is  half  scared  to  death  for  fear  the 
jack  of  spades  or  the  king  of  hearts  may  accidentally 
bump  against  that  sore  horn.  This  is  the  kind  of  a  bull 
the  Mexicans  love  to  fight.  The  jack  of  diamonds, 
knowing  this,  gets  right  in  front  of  the  dangerous  brute, 
which  turns  tail,  for  fear  the  face  card  will  run  against 
that  sore  horn.  Perhaps  some  of  our  readers  know  that 
it  hurts  to  run  against  the  jack  of  diamonds,  particu- 
larly if  hearts  are  trumps,  and  the  other  fellow  has  the 
right  bower,  and  perhaps  the  ace  and  the  ten-spot;  but 
we  are  digressing. 

As  soon  as  the  bull  refuses  to  hurt  his  sore  horn 
against  the  jack  of  hearts,  the  air  is  rent  with  vivas  in 
honor  of  the  reckless  intrepidity  of  the  bull  fighter,  who 
gracefully  bows  his  acknowledgements.  All  the  bull 
fighters  try  in  vain  to  bump  against  that  sore  horn  but 
the  bull  is  too  smart  for  them.  They  punch  him  with 
spears,  thrust  sharp  spikes  festooned  with  tissue  paper  in 
his  hide,  until  he  is  dripping  with  blood;  until  the  unfort- 
unate brute  is  exhausted;  but  he  never  loses  his  pres- 
ence of  mind  so  much  as  to  punch  one  of  the  face  cards 
with  that  sore  horn.  The  animal  is  finally  roped,  the 
spikes  are  pulled  out  of  his  hide,  and  he  is  either  driven 
out  of  the  arena,  or  butchered. 

The  Mexican  bull  fight  is  a  beautiful  blending  of 
Spanish  cruelty  and  Indian  cowardice.  No  decent 
American  would  sit  through  the  whole  performance. 
If  he  really  needed  an  emetic,  he  would  go  to  a  drug 
store  and  get  one. 


94 


SKETCHES    FROM 


THE     CAYOTE. 


The  cayote  is  about  two-thirds  the  size  of  a  yellow 
dog,  and  looks  like  a  second-hand  wolf  in  straightened 
circumstances.  He  bears  about  the  same  relation  to 
the  genuine  wolf  that  the  buzzard  does  to  the  eagle,  or 
that  a  chicken  thief  does  to  a  modern  bank  cashier. 
He  has  a  prepetual  air  of  being  ashamed  of  himself,  or 
of  something  he  has  done.  As  you  catch  a  glimpse  of 
him,  trotting  away  from  one  mott  of  timber  to  another, 
looking  back  over  his  ears,  and  with  his  tail  filled 
around  his  left  leg,  he  looks  as  if  he  were  aware  that 
the  police  had  a  clue  to  his  whereabouts,  and  were 
working  up  his  case.     No  one  ever  saw  a  fat  cayote. 


''TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  95 

You  may  catch  a  young  one,  civilize  him  as  much  as 
you  can,  feed  him  on  canned  groceries,  and  put  a  brass 
collar  on  him,  but  his  ribs  will  still  be  his  most  prom- 
inent feature,  and  at  the  first  favorable  opportunity  he 
will  voluntarily  and  ungratefully  leave  your  hospitable 
roof,  and  from  choice,  become  a  roving  vagabond  on 
the  prairie,  living  on  carrion  and  sharing  his  meal  with 
the  buzzard.  These  predatory  shadows  are  not  at  all 
dangerous.  There  is  no  fight  in  them.  They  are  fatal 
to  sheep  when  the  cayote  majority  is  forty  to  a  minority 
of  one  sick  sheep,  but  otherwise  they  are  quite  harm- 
less. What  they  lack  in  courage  they  make  up  in  craft- 
iness. They  will  twist  themselves  into  all  manner  of 
grotesque  postures,  and  tumble  around  in  the  long 
grass,  that  the  rabbit  or  young  fawns  may,  by  curiosity, 
be  induced  to  come  within  reach  of  their  sharp  fangs. 
This  last  playful  characteristic  of  the  cayote  was  de- 
scribed to  us  by  a  friend,  who  was  a  New  York  news- 
paper reporter,  and  acquainted  with  a  cayote  that  re- 
sided in  a  cage  in  Central  Park.  His  statement  may, 
therefore,  be  relied  on,  even  to  the  length  of  the  grass. 
The  cayote  has  a  small  head  and  fox-like,  ears,  but  the 
biggest  end  of  him  is  his  voice.  The  mellifluous,  silver- 
toned  euphony  of  one  of  his  nocturnal  overtures  would 
scare  a  monkey  off  a  hand  organ,  and  make  an  Italian 
opera  singer  hang  himself  with  envy,  and  one  of  his 
own  chords.  When  he  slinks  up,  and,  seating  himself 
in  the  twilight  of  a  camp-fire  on  the  prairie,  opens  out 
with  a  canticle  and  runs  up  the  scale — starting  with  a 
diminuendo  whine,  throwing  in  a  staccato  shriek,  and 
ending  with  a  crescendo  howl — the  sonorific  outburst 
terrifies  the  Genus  of  Acoustics,  and  makes  the  welkin 
ring  until  it  cracks  itself  and  has  to  be  carried  off  and 
repaired. 


96  SKETCHES    FROM 

A  hardy  frontiersman,  traveling  over  the  boundless 
prairies  of  western  Texas,  when  the  shades  of  night  are 
beginning  to  fall,  prepares  to  camp  for  the  night.  He 
stakes  out  his  tired  steed  to  graze  on  the  flower-be- 
spangled grass,  while  he  prepares  his  frugal  meal.  Hav- 
ing placed  his  weapons  within  easy  reach,  he  spreads 
his  blankets,  and  stretching  his  weary  limbs,  resigns 
himself  to  the  care  of  the  drowsy  god.  Suddenly  the 
air  is  alive  with  direful  yells,  shrieks  and  howls,  as  if  all 
the  Indians  on  the  American  continent  had  been  turned 
loose.  Does  the  hardy  frontiersman  spring  to  his  feet, 
seize  his  trusty  rifle,  and  prepare  to  sell  his  life  as  dear- 
ly as  possible?  He  does  not.  He  merely  turns  over 
and  mutters  drowsily,  "  d — n  a  cayote,  anyhow,"  for  he 
knows  that  of  all  the  wild  beasts  that  roam  the  jungle, 
the  cayote  is  the  most  harmless. 

One  cayote  at  night  can  make  enough  noise  to  induce 
the  inexperienced  traveler  to  believe  that  there  are  at 
least  fifty  of  them  in  the  immediate  neighborhood.  If 
a  cayote  was  assayed,  we  venture  to  predict  that  he 
would  be  found  to  consist  of  one  part  wolf  and  nine 
parts  of  vocal  ability.  The  only  time  when  the  voice 
of  the  cayote,  as  one  of  the  resources  of  Texas,  has  any 
value,  is  when  it  is  used  to  take  the  conceit  out  of  some 
smart  stranger  from  the  Eastern  States.  The  accli- 
mated Texan  induces  the  stranger  to  go  with  him  in 
pursuit  of  game,  and  to  camp  out  on  the  prairie  or  in 
the  woods,  and  he  enjoys  the  stranger's  fear  when  he 
hears  the  cayotes  for  the  first  time  as  they  howl  around 
the  camp-fire  in  "  the  dead  waste  and  middle  of  the 
night."  It  is  difficult  to  convince  the  stranger  that  the 
cayote  will  not  make  a  meal  of  him  and  eat  his  horse 
and  baggage  for  dessert.  In  fact,  it  is  not  the  policy  of 
the  Texan  to  convince  th^  stranger. 


TEXAS  SIFTINGSr 


97 


That  this  popular  fallacy  regarding  the  ferocity  of 
the  cayote  exists,  was  illustrated  not  long  since  in  the 
remarks  made  by  a  Northern  preacher,  in  a  sermon  he 
preached  shortly  after  his  arrival  in  the  State.  He  was 
illustrating  how  the  heedless  sinner  refused  to  benefit 
by  the  most  earnest  warning,  in  the  very  presence  of  the 
wrath  to  come.  He  said:  "Dear  friends,  methinks  I 
see  two  men  walking  out  on  one  of  your  bee-utiful 
prairies.  They  enjoy  the  perfume  of  the  flowers,  the 
songs  of  the  innocent  little  birds,  and  the  calm,  quiet 
beauty  of  your  g-lorious  Indian  summer  evenings. 
Communing  together,  they  walk  along  heedless  of  dan- 
ger. The  sun  sinks  to  rest  beyond  the  distant  horizon; 
the  curtain  of  night  gradually  descends  and  closes  out 
the  light  of  day;  still  the  two  men  walk  leisurely  along, 
feeling  safe  and  secure.  But,  hark!  What  sound  is 
that  in  the  distance?  What  blood-curdling  howl  makes 
them  arrest  their  steps?  It  is,  dear  friends — it  is  the 
cry  of  the  wolves  on  their  track — the  fierce  and  blood- 
thirsty cayote  in  hot  pursuit,  ah!  And  what  think  you 
do  these  two  unfortunate  men  do?  One  of  them,  my 
beloved  congregation,  realized  his  danger,  and  running 
to  a  tree,  climbed  up  by  the  aid  of  a  convenient  branch, 
out  of  reach  of  the  cruel  fangs  of  the  relentless  beasts 
of  prey.  He  called  unto  his  companion  and  said  unto 
him:  'O,  my  brother,  reach  out  and  take  hold  of  this 
branch,  climb  up  here  beside  me,  and  be  saved!'  But 
the  other  said:  'No,  there  is  no  danger;  the  wolves 
are  still  a  long  way  off — I  have  time  enough.'  Alas! 
dear  hearers,  while  he  was  yet  speaking,  the  dreadful 
cayotes  came  upon  him,  and,  rending  him  limb  from 
limb,  devoured  him  even  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye. 
Thus  it  is,  O,  careless  and  heedless  sinners,  that  you,  to- 
night, stand,  etc.,  etc."     When  the  preacher  concluded 


98  SKETCHES  FROM 

the  services  and  was  leaving  the  church,  he  was  accost- 
ed by  old  man  Parker,  (who  has  lived  in  Texas  since 
'36),  who  said:  "  Parson,  the  front  end  of  your  discourse 
was  grand  and  gloomy,  and  calculated  to  bluff  the  un- 
converted sinner.  You  had  a  full  hand,  and  might  have 
raked  in  all  the  mourners  in  the  pot;  but.  Lord  bless 
your  soul,  you  played  a  nine  spot  when  you  chipped  in 

with  that  wolf  yarn.     Yes,  Doctor,  you  played 

when  you  got  on  that  cayote  lay!" 


A     NEWS    FACTORY 


We  have  often  wondered  how  it  was  that  the  St. 
Louis  Globe- Democrat  exhibited  so  much  more  enter- 
prise than  our  most  enterprising  Texas  papers,  m  pub- 
lishing special  telegrams  descriptive  of  murders  and 
other  crimes  committed  in  Texas.  We  have  frequently 
read  of  Texas  murders  and  robberies  in  the  Globe-Dem- 
ocrat^ that  we  never  saw  mentioned  in  any  Texas  pa- 
per. Now  we  understand  how  it  was  done.  The  feline 
has  been  ejected  from  the  bag,  and  we  can  explain  what 
has  so  long  been  a  mystery. 

In  the  Globe- Democrat  office  there  is  kept  a  number  of 
stereotyped  forms,  like  the  following,  with  blank  spaces 
in  them: 

ANOTHER    MURDER    IN    TEXAS. 

[Special  despatch  to  the  Globe-Democrat.'\ 

,    Te-xas,  — . — A   cold-blooded   mur- 

der  was  committed  here day,  about  —  o'clock  in 

the  — .     Mr. ,  a    peaceable    citizen, 

was  called  to  his  door,  seized  and  carried  a  short  dis- 
tance frorn  the  house,  and  shot  de^d,     No  dew  to  the 


''  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  99 

murderers.     The  country  is  in  a  very  disturbed  state, 
and  life  and  property  unsafe; 

THE    KNIFE   IN    TEXAS. 

[Special  despatch  to  the  Globe-Democrat^ 

— '■ ,  Texas,  — ^ . — Two  men  named 


and -■ ,  met    last   — : — ,  in  the 


saloon  at  this  place.     After  drinking  together  they  got 

into  a  quarrel,  and stabbed  in  the  body 

times.     is  not  expected  to  recover. 

DAILY    RECORD    OF    TEXAS   STAGE    ROBBERIES. 

[Special  dispatch  to  the  Giobe-Democrat7[ 

,    Texas, . — The  stage  between 


and  w^as  stopped   and    robbed    day 

by masked  men      The  passengers,  in  num- 
ber,  contributed   % and  watches.     The  mails 

were    .     The    robbers    are    supposed  to    be   the 

same  who  robbed  the stage  the  day  before. 

Every  night  the  managing  editor  calls  the  foreman 
up,  and  a  conversation  something  in  this  style  takes 
place: 

"  Got  nearly  all  the  copy  you  want? " 

"All  but  about  a  column,  sir." 

"  Got  all  your  suicides  and  fearful  accidents  in? " 
■    "  Yes,  sir." 

"Have  you  enough  clerical  scandals  and  dreadful 
outrages  for  this  issue?" 

"  I  believe  we  have  fully  the  usual  number." 

"Well,  then,  .1  recko.n  you  had  better  fill  up  with 
Texas  crimes.  Gimme  them  stereotypes.  Here,  fill 
up  the  blanks  in  this    'Dreadful  Murder;' any  names 


SKETCHES  FROM 


will  do.  Locate  it  at  Dallas;  we  have  not  had  a  mur- 
der there  for  a  week.  And  here's  the  '  Stage  Robbery  * 
blank;  locate  the  scene  somewhere  near  San  Antonicw 
It  might  as  well  go  in  every  day,  and  twice  in  the  Sun- 
day edition.  And  you  can  use  this  '  Lynching' form; 
it'll  fit  any  Texas  town.  By-the-way,  you  had  better 
get  a  new  stereotype  of  that;  the  old  one  has  been  used 
so  often  it's  pretty  badly  worn.  Now,  I  think  that 
will  about  fill  your  column;  but  if  it  don't,  why,  just 
stick  in  a  homicide,  a  commutation  by  Gov.  Roberts, 
or  any  other  crime  that  we  have  got  blanks  for." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Texas  is  a  great  State,  and  she  deserves  all  the 
prominence  we  can  give  her." 


^-&<3<K5^^I>oO^«>- 


THE    PATRONIZING    SUBSCRIBER. 


The  patronizing  subscriber  is  the  most  exasperating 
man  with  whom  the  journalist  has  to  deal.  He  does 
not  hand  two  dollars  to  the  editor,  and  request  that  the 
paper  be  sent  to  his  address  for  a  year.  He  is  not  that 
sort  of  a  man. 

When  he  buys  a  railroad  ticket  he  pays  cash  down 
to  the  clerk  who  edits  the  ticket  with  a  hand  stamp; 
and  to  the  Chinese  journalist  who  edits  his  shirt  with 
a  flat-iron  he  disburses  some  of  his  wealth  before  he 
gets  his  shirt.  But  when  he  patronizes  the  editor,  his 
tactics  are  different.  He  says:  "Well,  I  reckon  you'd 
better  put  my  name  down  for  your  paper.  I  really 
take  more  papers  now  than  I  read,  but  I  suppose  I'll 
have  to  take  yours,  too.  We  are  all  expected  to  do 
something  toward  supporting  the  press,  you  know." 
He  says  this  with  the  air  of  a  philanthropist  subscrib- 


"  rmxAs  siFTiNasr^ "  .  .161'. 

ing  for  the  controlling  interest  in  a  narrow-gauge  rail- 
road, or  a  new  church,  on  which  he  never  expects  to 
draw  a  dividend;  but,  at  the  same  time,  he  neglects  to 
reduce  his  cash  balance  by  subscribing  the  $2  in  ad- 
vance. He  tells  the  editor  to  call  on  him  for  the 
amount  when  he  needs  it.  He  is  careful  to  leave  the 
impression  that  he  has  no  possible  use  for  the  paper, 
and  he  will  likely  never  read  it,  but  he  merely  wants 
to  help  the  editor  out  with  the  two  dollars  he  does  not 
pay.  Although  the  patronizing  subscriber  does  not 
contribute  a  cent,  he  positively  imagines  he  has  squan- 
dered money  that  should  have  gone  to  the  really  de- 
serving poor.  In  time,  as  the  paper  prospers,  he  comes 
to  regard  himself  as  the  founder  and  chief  proprietor 
of  it.  The  only  wonder  is  that  he  does  not  sell  it  out 
when,  as  is  frequently  the  case,  it  fails  to  reflect  his 
political  and  religious  views.  When  an  editorial  de- 
molishes one  of  his  pet  theories,  he  begins  to  regret 
that  he  has  been  nouris  hing  a  serpent  in  his  bosom,  and 
talks  of  withdrawing  his  support  from  the  paper.  He 
even  hints  at  establishing  an  independent  organ  that 
will  properly  represent  the  people.  In  return  for  the 
copy,  that  he  has  not  yet  paid  for,  the  exacting  patron 
expects  that  the  editor  will  attempt,  in  some  slight 
degree,  to  pay  off  the  national  debt  of  obligation  due  to 
him,  by  bringing  his  name  before  the  people  as  a  suit- 
able man  for  some  prominent  position.  If  this  is  not 
done  he  regards  it  as  an  evidence  of  base  ingratitude. 

He  comes  into  the  editorial  room  with  a  manuscript 
describing  the  wonderful  idiosyncrasies  of  character  dis- 
played by  his  house  dog,  or  some  other  such  matter  of 
national  importance,  and  wants  it  put  in  the  papei ;  and 
when  the  editor  reads  it,  and  suggests  that  his  columns 
are  crowded  and  that  he  hardly  thinks  the  matter  offer- 


I02 


SKETCHES    FROM 


ed  would  interest  the  subscribers  anyhow,  the  patroniz- 
ing subscriber  is  astonished,  and  says:  "  My  Heavens, 
man,  ain't  I  a  subscriber?"  and  then  he  goes  off  deter- 
mined to  bestow  his  patronage  on  some  live  paper  that 
will  appreciate  his  assistance.  What  exasperates  him 
most,  is  for  the  editor  to  send  him  a  bill  for  the  $2  of 
capital  stock  that  stands  opposite  his  name  on  the  books. 
We  regret  that  these  few  words  will  not  reach  the  pa- 
tronizing subscriber,  because  that  kind  of  philanthropist 
does  not  read  Texas  Sifti?igs^  except  when  he  borrows  or 
steals  a  copy.  Our  invariably-in-advance  policy  is  very 
distasteful  to  him. 


THE     HORNED     FROG, 


He  stood  on  the 
Pacific  slope  of 
Onion  creek,  near  a 


small  school-house. 
He  was  evidently 
the  school-master. 
His  rusty  black 
clothes  and  spa- 
cious shirt  collar  betrayed  him.  He  was  gazing  intently 
on  a  small  object  on  the  ground.  As  we  approached 
he  picked  it  up,  and  holding  it  out  in  his  hand,  asked 
us  if  we  had  ever  seen  an  iguanian  reptile  of  the  gefius 
phynosomna.  We  confessed  that  we  had  never  seen  one 
often  enough  to  get  intimately  acquainted  with  its 
domestic  habits. 

He  said  that  it  was  a  very  interesting  reptile,  and  was 
vulgarly  called  the  horned  frog.     The  specimen  in  his 


"  TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  103 

hand  was  the  first  we  had  ever  seen,  and  the  teacher  dis- 
coursed learnedly  regarding  the  manners  and  customs 
and  family  history  of  the  bright-looking  little  reptile. 

We  have  since  seen  many  of  the  frogs,  and  have  found 
them  to  be  very  much  of  an  improvement  on  the  bull- 
frog, although  their  vocal  ability  is  much  more  limited. 
When  the  horned  frog  is  at  home  he  indulges  in  wild 
bursts  of  eloquent  silence,  and  seldom  makes  any  noise, 
except  when  you  lock  him  up  in  a  bureau  drawer  to  see 
how  long  he  will  live  without  food. 

The  horned  frog  is  a  native  of  Texas  and  Lower  Cali- 
fornia, where  he  is  found  inhabiting  the  sandy  soil  of 
the  prairies,  and  the  pockets  of  the  small  boy.' 

The  horned  frog  is  really  not  a  frog  at  all,  but  a  lizard 
traveling  incognito.  He  is  shorter  and  broader  than 
the  ordinary  lizard,  grey  in  color,  with  bright  spots  and 
horny  spikes  all  over  his  back,  and  on  his  head  two  real 
horns  about  half-an-inch  in  length.  He  is  not  as  big  as 
a  bull,  but  you  can  take  him  by  the  horns  all  the  same. 

Although  the  horned  frog  does  not  live  in  a  restaur- 
ant, he  eats  about  as  many  flies  as  if  he  did;  in  fact,  he 
lives  on  flies;  that  is  his  principal  pursuit.  When  he 
eats  a  fly  he  knows  .what  he  is  doing,  and  that  is  where 
he  has  a  great  advantage  over  the  regular  restaurant 
boarder.  We  have  seen  horned  frogs  used  as  fly  traps 
in  grocers'  windows.  The  fly  that  succeeds  in  attract- 
ing the  attention  of  a  horned  frog  can  never  be  used 
afterwards. 

The  horned  frog  is  a  dry,  cleanly  little  reptile,  and 
seems  to  have  no  vices.  As  he  never  gets  drunk,  nor 
eats  hot  biscuits,  nor  runs  a  newspaper,  he  is  hard  to 
kill.  He  will  live  six  months  without  food  and  be  good- 
natured  all  the  time. 

He  travels  a  great  deal,  but  never  brags  about  it.  We 


I04  SKETCHES    FROM 

knew  one  that  left  Texas,  and  three  weeks  afterwards 
was  registered  in  a  town  in  the  south  of  England,  in 
the  enjoyment  of  fine  health.  He  traveled  cheaply,  too; 
and — although  he  did  not  go  on  an  editorial  excursion, 
yet  his  traveling  expenses,  including  hotel  bills,  fees  to 
waiters,  and  other  incidentals,  only  amounted  to  ten 
cents,  this  being  the  value  of  the  postage  stamps  pasted 
on  the  paper  collar  box  he  was  mailed  in.  Large 
quantities  of  him  were  formerly  exiled  to  the  Northern 
States  and  elsewhere,  through  the  medium  of  the  post- 
office  department.  The  post-office  authorities  did  not 
object  much  to  the  horned  frog,  but  after  a  while  they 
found  that  tarantulas,  centipedes  and  an  occasional  rat- 
tlesnake were  to  be  found  among  the  letters  and  other 
mail  matter.  The  paper  boxes  in  which  these  little 
playthings  were  forwarded  frequently  got  broken,  and 
the  foundling  tarantula  would  occasionally  bear  away 
a  post-office  clerk  to  the  dark  and  silent  tomb.  The  con- 
sequence was  that  the  clerks  took  to  distributing  and 
assorting  mails  with  long  poles.  This  occupied  too 
much  time,  and  when  they  found  any  specimens  of  na- 
tive Texans,  instead  of  picking  them  up,  placing  them 
in  the  boxes  and  re-addressing  them,  they  killed  them 
in  their  tracks.  About  this  time  life  insurance  com- 
panies began  to  put  extra  clauses  in  their  policies,  re- 
quiring the  policy  holders  to  abstain  from  working  in 
powder  mills,  from  stealing  ponies  and  from  handling 
the  mails  from  Texas.  All  of  which  caused  the  post- 
office  department  to  pass  a  constitutional  amendment 
requiring  the  sender  of  such  insects  to  kill  them  before 
mailing  them,  as  the  labor  of  attending  to  the  matter 
took  up  too  much  of  the  time  of  the  employees.  The 
horned  frog — in  which  there  is  no  more  malice  than 
there  is  in  a  cauliflower — had  to  suffer  for  the  sins  of 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS: 


105 


the  tarantula,  the  centipede,  the  rattlesnake  and  other 
representative  characters. 

Two  out  of  every  possible  three  school-boys  in  Texas 
carry  a  few  horned  frogs  alive  in  their  pockets  during 
the  spring  season — for  what  reason  or  purpose  I  am  un- 
able to  state.  But  who  can  give  a  reason  for  half  the 
things  that  a  small  boy  treasures  about  his  person? 

— o-^<KE^ — 

THAT    TYPICAL    TEXAN. 


Some  man  whose  head  was  flat — prob- 
ably ourselves — has  said  that  the  North  had 
been  hating  an  ideal  Southerner,  who 
never  existed;  that  the  South  had  been 
hating  an  ideal  Yankee,  who  never  existed; 
and  the  Americans  generally  had  been 
worshiping  an  ideal  Indian,  who  never  ex- 
isted, except  in  Fenimore  Cooper^s  novels. 
We  may  add  to  the  list  of  mythical  per- 
sonages an  ideal  Texan,  who  figures  so 
largely  in  the  Northern  mind  and  dime 
novels,  but  otherwise  is  as  hard  to  find  as 
Charlie  Ross.  The  typical  Texan  is  a 
large-sized  Jabberwock,  a  hairy  kind  of  gorilla,  who  is 
supposed  to  reside  on  a  horse.  He  is  half  alligator, 
half  human,  who  eats  raw  buffalo,  and  sleeps  out  on  a 
prairie.  He  is  expected  to  carry  four  or  five  revolvers 
at  his  belt,  as  if  he  were  a  sort  of  perambulating  gun- 
rack.  He  also  carries  a  large  assortment  of  cutlery  in 
his  boot.  It  is  believed  that  a  failure  to  invite  him  to 
drink  is  more  dangerous  than  to  kick  a  can  of  dyna- 
mite.    The  only  time  the  typical  Texan  is  supposed  to 


io6  SKETCHES  FROM 

be  peaceable  is  after  he  has  killed  all  his  friends,  and 
can  find  no  fresh  material  to  practice  on.  It  is  also  the 
belief  in  the  North  that  all  the  Texans  are  typical  Tex- 
ans,  it  being  utterly  impossible  for  a  Texan  to  be  any- 
thing except  a  desperado.  Now,  we  propose  to  knock 
this  typical  Texan,  who  is  accused  of  being  particular- 
ly numerous  in  Western  Texas,  right  off  his  pins.  We 
are  prepared  to  prove  a  complete  alibi  for  him.  We 
will  show  that  the  typical  Texan  is  as  mild  as  picnic 
lemonade.  It  will  be  remembered  that  stage  robbing 
had  been  carried  on  for  some  time  in  Western  Texas. 
There  are  only  nine  stage  robbers  in  jail  at  San  Antonio 
now,  and  the  Lord  knows  how  many  on  the  outside. 
Why,  at  one  time,  the  traveling  public  became  so  ac- 
customed to  going  through  the  usual  ceremonies  that 
they  complained  to  the  stage  company  if  they  came 
through  unmolested.  Being  robbed,  came  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  vested  right.  On  one  occasion  the  stage 
driver  happened  to  stop  his  horses  right  in  front  of 
the  old  Alamo,  that  sacred  Thermopylae  that  is  now  be- 
ing used  to  store  cabbages  and  potatoes  in,  right  in  the 
heart  of  San  Antonio,  where  most  of  the  saloons  are, 
in  order  to  give  a  man  on  horseback  a  light  for  his 
pipe.  As  soon  as  the  stage  halted,  the  passengers  tum- 
bled out,  pell-mell,  and,  falling  in  line,  held  up  their 
hands,  and  called  out:  "Don't  shoot!" 

The  point  is  this :  Notwithstanding  the  stage  was 
robbed  so  often  when  there  were  typical  Texans  in  it, 
in  no  instance  did  any  of  them  violate  the  law  by  dis- 
charging pistols,  or  even  by  using  strong  language. 
They  never  even  said:  "Why,  damme,  'tis  too  bad!" 
until  the  robbers — probably  missionaries  from  the 
North — had  gone  away.  Does  this  look  like  rowdy- 
ism?    The   typical  Texan    acted   more   in   accordance 


''  TEXAS  SIFTIA-'GSr  107 

with  the  teachings  of  the  New  Testament,  where  it  re- 
quires the  plundered  party,  w^ho  has  been  robbed  of 
his  coat,  to  pull  off  his  pants,  and  tender  them  also  to 
the  needy  highwayman.  It  will  be  seen  at  once  that 
great  injustice  has  been  done  our  people.  There  is, 
however,  a  world  of  consolation  in  the  fact  that  in  Mis- 
souri, where  three  crops  of  guerrillas  and  bushwhack- 
ers are  raised  every  year,  a  bogus  Jesse  James  and  a 
few  assistants  rob  a  whole  train.  There  is  also  much 
solid  comfort  to  Texans  in  the  fact  that  in  Arkansaw, 
where  the  Arkansaw  tooth-pick  grows  to  be  as  big  as  a 
scythe,  that  lately  four  beardless  boys  collected  four 
thousand  dollars'  worth  of  money,  jewelry  and  pistols 
from  a  train  full  of  passengers.  But  what  has  become 
of  the  typical  Texan?  Governor  Roberts  should  offer 
a  reward  for  a  live  specimen.  Even  the  stage  robbers 
are  not  as  dangerous  as  a  kerosene  lamp  to  handle. 
When  an  officer  of  the  law  comes  across  a  Texas  stage 
robber,  and  says:  "Oh,  wake  up,  William  Riley,  and 
come  along  w4th  me!"  William  invariably  drops  his  lit- 
tle pop-gun  and  other  playthings,  and  goes  along  with 
him. 


HE     WANTED     A     NOTICE. 


*'  Are  you  the  editor? "  said  a  man,  who  wore  a  con- 
ciliatory smile  and  a  dyed  beard,  as  he  took  a  seat  in 
our  office. 

We  acknowledged  that  at  present  we  served  and  in- 
structed the  public  in  that  capacity,  and  to  prove  our 
assertion,  we  showed  him  the  blisters  made  on  our 
hands  by  our  exertions  in  operating  the  Archimedean 
lever  that  moves  the  world. 


io8  SKETCHES  EROM 

"  Well,  I  want  you  to  surprise  me  with  a  flattering 
personal  notice  in  your  paper.  I'm  going  to  run  for 
constable  in  the  eighth  ward,  and  I  want  something 
neat  in  the  way  of  a  send-off." 

"Our  columns  are  always  open  to  advance  the  best 
interests  of  the  public,  but  we  shall  expect  you  to  first 
surprise  us  with  a  pecuniary  compensation,  not  neces- 
sarily for  publication,  but  merely  as  a  pledge  of  good 
faith." 

"  I'll  pay.  A  man  can't  expect  to  be  surprised  with- 
out paying  for  it  in  advance.     What  have  you  got? " 

"  We  can  accommodate  you  with  almost  any  kind  of 
personal  notice,  from  a  cheap  electro-plated  biography 
to  an  i8-caret  obituary,  and  at  a  scale  of  prices  varying 
according  to  the  amount  of  strain  on  our  columns  and 
veracity.  In  moulding  public  opinion  we  defy  compe- 
tition. Now,  how  would  you  like  this?  It  is  a  neat 
little  pre-Raphaelite  gem,  and  will  cost  you  only 
$2.00: 

"  '  Our  enterprising   townsman.    Col.  B ,   than 

whom  there  is  no  more  popular  and  genial  gentleman 
in  the  length  and  breadth  of  our  great  empire  state,  has 
consented,  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  many  friends, 
to  sacrifice  his  very  profitable  private  business  for  the 
public  good,  and  has  authorized  us  to  announce  him  as 
a  candidate  for  the  honorable  office  of  constable  of  this 
precinct.' 

"  If  that  is  not  strong  enough,  here  is  a  Michael  An- 
gelo,  full  length,  in  which  your  good  qualities  of  head 
and  heart  will  be  touchingly  alluded  to,  and  you  will 
be  commended  for  your  generous  impulses — only  $5 
each  insertion.  Then  we  have  a  brilliant  thing,  after 
Mozart,  which  is  really  intended  for  gubernatorial  can- 
didates— speaks  of   your  simplicity  of  character,  jean 


''  TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  '         109 

clothes  and  pay-as-you-go  proclivities — but  it  can  easi- 
ly be  modified  to  suit  a  prospective  constable.  It  will 
cost  you  $7.50.  There  are  several  others  from  $5.00 
to  $10.00  each.  For  referring  to  you  as  an  old  land- 
mark, one  dollar  extra  is  charged." 

"  I  reckon  you  can  saw  me  off  five  dollars'  worth,  but 
you  must  throw  in  something  about  my  brilliant  war 
record." 

"We  always  do  that." 

"And  just  wind  up  by  surprising  Captain  Bill  Smike. 
He  is  running  against  me.  I  wouldn't  say  anything 
he  might  take  offense  at.  Only  say  he  is  not  fit  for  the 
office,  because  he  has  a  breath  like  a  buzzard,  and  the 
record  of  a  convict.  You  might  add  that  my  brother 
hasn't  got  a  wife  that  has  fits.  That  will  hit  him  where 
he  is  sore,  for  his  brother's  wife  is  subject  to  fits.  I  don't 
care  to  lug  any  personalities  into  this  campaign  unless 
I  am  obliged  to." 

"AVe  can't  do  it,  colonel.  Your  rival  is  our  personal 
friend.     He  is  a  subscriber." 

"Pshaw!  I  thought  you  were  running  an  independent 
paper  in  the  interest  of  the  people,  but  I  see  you  are 
the  subsidized  organ  of  a  political  clique;  "  and  off  he 
went  to  see  the  editor  of  the  other  paper. 

— c-^<po<^ — 

THE    FORCE    OF    HABIT. 

"You  smoke  a  great  deal,  Gus,"  said  a  friend  to  Gus 
De  Smith. 

"Yes,"  replied  Gus;  "  particularly  after  dinner.  I 
have  got  so  in  the  habit  of  smoking  after  dinner  that 
the  dinner  don't  taste  right  when  I  eat  it,  unless  I  have 
a  smoke  afterwards." 


SKETCHES    FROM 


THE    EDITORIAL    CRANK. 


HE  Editorial  Crank 
shows  his  crankiness 
in  many  ways.  He 
suffers  most  from  sen- 
sitiveness and  solem- 
nity. His  mind  moves 
along  in  a  groove,  and 
should  it,  by  accident, 
be  forced  out  of  the 
groove,  it  wanders  aimlessly  around  until  he  sometimes 
loses  it. 

Of  politics  he  only  knows  the  good  things  that  the 
party  he  belongs  to  has  done  or  is  going  to  do,  and  the 
wicked  things  that  the  other  party  has  done  or  is  about 
to  do.  His  forte  is  in  controversies  with  other  Edito- 
rial Cranks.  Another  editor  has  probably  remarked 
that  bungstarters  were  first  invented  in  the  year  709, 
B.  C,  and  used  by  the  ancient  Egyptians  as  instru- 
ments of  warfare.  Crank  No.  i,  in  a  labored  editorial, 
three  and  a  half  feet  long,  demonstrates  that  Crank 
No.  2  has  displayed  lamentable  lack  of  knowledge  of 
ancient  history,  and  suggests  that  he  should  go  to  a 
night-school  and  grind  the  wire  edge  off  his  ignorance; 
and  he  concludes  by  proving  (quoting  authorities)  that 
it  was  not  as  instruments  of  warfare  that  bungstarters 
were  used  by  the  ancient  Egyptians,  B.  C,  709;  that 
there  were  no  ancient  Egyptians  B.  C,  709,  and  that 
the  bungstarter  was  not  invented  until  the  fall  of  A. 


''TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  iii 

D.,  211,  when  Geta,  brother  to  Caracalla,  reigned  at 
Rome,  and  was  murdered  by  his  brother,  who  used  for 
that  purpose  the  first  bungstarter  ever  invented.  He 
surmises  that  his  ignorant  brother  has  confounded  the 
Egyptian  word  meanmg  war-chariot,  which  is  similar 
in  sound,  with  the  modern  English  word,  bungstarter. 

Then  Crank  No.  2  answers  back  and  proves  the  cor- 
rectness of  his  assertion  by  quoting  authorities,  and  by 
speaking  disrespectfully  of  the  intelligence  of  his  learn- 
ed contemporary,  Crank  No.  i. 

And  so  the  controversy  goes  on,  two  columns  a  week 
for  half-a-year,  until  the  readers  get  tired,  and  one  day 
the  sheriff  has  more  to  do  with  the  paper  than  the  editor 
has.  Here  is  a  sample  of  the  sort  of  "argument  "  the 
crank  uses  when  he  has  his  sleeves  rolled  up  and  is  earn- 
estly striving  to  mould  public  opinion  and  educate  the 
masses. 

The  editor  of  the  Emory  ^r^z/j-,  in  the  last  issue  pf  his 
paper,  throws  a  ray  of  sunshine  in  the  path  of  a  contem- 
porary.    He  says: 

"  From  our  lofty  eminence  we  look  down  and  smile 
contemptuously  upon  the  little  donkey  who  edits  the 
Wills  Point  Locals  floundering  in  the  dirt  and  doing  his 
best  to  throw  mud  on  us." 

Egotism  is  what  afflicts  the  Editorial  Crank  most.  He 
fails  to  recognize  the  fact,  that  the  general  public  does 
not  care  anything  about  the  origin  of  bungstarters,  nor 
about  the  other  things  he  writes  of  to  show  his  learning, 
nor  are  they  interested  in  his  disputes  with  other  editors 
about  nothing.  He  is  very  sensitive.  He  cannot  stand 
or  understand  a  joke.  When  a  brother  editor  indulges 
in  some  good  natured  jest  at  his  expense,  he  gets  angry 
and  says  spiteful  things  in  reply. 


112 


SKETCHES    EEOM 


THE     CONFIDENTIAL     BORE. 


Of  all  the  great  family 
of  bores  the  confidential 
bore  is  the  worst.  All 
the  rest  are  .  mere  little 
post  holes,  as  it  were, 
while  he  is  a  1,200  foot 
artesian  well  of  a  bore. 
The  confidential  bore  is 
of  all  ages  and  sizes,  and 
flourishes  in  every  cli- 
mate. He  can  easily  be 
recognized  by  the  fol- 
lowing peculiarities.  He 
always  has  what  he  con- 
siders a  good  thing  to  tell  you,  but  he  wants  to  impart 
it  privately,  and,  therefore,  beckons  you  to  step  aside. 
Then  he  begins  by  stating  that  he  does  "  not  want  it  to 
go  any  farther,"  and,  while  he  is  telling  you  a  scrap  of 
scandal  about  one  of  his  neighbors,  or  giving  you  a  de- 
tailed account  of  the  symptoms  attending  the  teething 
of  his  "  next  to  the  youngest,"  of  no  earthly  interest  to 
any  but  himself  and  the  suffering  child,  he  pokes  his 
fingers  in  your  ribs  and  stutters  with  his  left  eye,  when 
he  comes  to  what  he  thinks  the  thrilling,  humorous,  or 
impressive  part  of  the  narrative.  The  confidential  bore 
always  pokes  his  victim  in  the  ribs  at  the  crescendo 
part  of  his  exhaustive  drivel,  and  when  he  approaches 
the  fortissimo  part  he  pushes  him  clear  off  the  sidewalk. 
A  miserable  victim  of  one  of  the«e  confidential  outrage^ 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  113 

is  known  to  have  been  driven  once  around  a  block  and 
into  a  saloon,  while  being  inflicted  with  the  description 
of  the  successful  castings  and  manufacture  of  a  sweet 
potato  pie  constructed  by  some  female  member  of  the 
bore's  family.  One  of  the  marked  characteristics  of  the 
confidential  bore  is  his  weak  memory.  He  will  give  you 
a  second,  and  often  a  third  dose  of  the  same  old,  unin- 
teresting, personal  reminiscences,  forgetting  that  he  has 
ever  mentioned  the  matter  before.  Then,  after  giving 
you  some  points  on  a  matter  that  he  says  will  surprise 
the  people  when  it  becomes  public,  but  that  is,  f®r  the 
present,  to  be  considered  "between  ourselves,  sub  rosa^ 
you  know,"  he  will  go  down  and  lie  in  wait  at  the  post- 
office  for  some  other  unfortunate  acquaintance,  and  tell 
the  same  thing  to  him. 

The  confidential  bore  may  be  a  farmer,  or  a  police- 
man, or  a  legislator,  or  a  stage  robber,  but  he  is  never  a 
successful  business  man.  In  the  nature  of  things  he 
could  not  be,  for  he  has  no  idea  of  the  value  of  time. 
There  are  other  members  of  the  great  bore  family — the 
taciturn,  the  loquacious,  the  political,  and  the  clerical 
bore  for  instance — that  we  shall  discuss  hereafter. 

— •-^<3<<2^ — 

SHOWING    HIS    HAND, 

An  Austin  clergyman,  whose  name  we  suppress  on 
account  of  his  sacred  calling,  was  absorbed  in  thought 
a  few  Sundays  ago,  just  before  divine  service  began, 
when  he  was  approached  by  the  organist,  who  asked, 
referring  to  the  opening  hymn: 

"What  shall  I  play?" 

"  What  kind  of  a  hand  have-  you  got? "  responded  the 
absent-minded  clergyman. 


114 


SKETCHES  FROM 


LAVANBURG'S     SUBSTITUTE 


■-..d'L^ 


One  afternoon  not  long  since,  three  or  four  gentle- 
men were  comfortably  seated  in  Texas  Si/tings  office, 
very  busily  engaged  in  swapping  improbable  lies  about 
the  late  war,  and  explaining  to  their  own  satisfaction, 
why  it  was  that  the  Confederacy  was  not  such  a  per- 
manent success  as  had  been  anticipated.  The  discus- 
sion drifted  into  the  fighting  qualities  of  the  different 
nationalities.  One  of  the  party  said  that  while  both 
sides  displayed  great  gallantry,  there  was  one  man  in 
the  Confederate  army  who  was  spoiling  for  a  fight  more 
than  all  the  rest  of  the  combatants  put  together.     He 


''TEXAS  SJFTINGSr  115 

wanted  to  get  at  the  Yankees  and  tear  them  to  pieces, 
and  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  fill  him  up  with  gore. 

"  What  was  the  name  of  the  patriot?" 

*'  I  never  knew  his  real  name.  He  was  a  foreigner 
who  joined  our  regiment  at  Brownsville.  He  was  a 
deserter  from  Maximillian's  army,  and  we  used  to  call 
him  "Lavanburg's  substitute." 

"What  did  you  call  him  that  for?" 

"  Because  that  was  precisely  what  he  was.  He  was 
Lavanburg's  substitute.  Brownsville  was  at  that  time 
the  only  live  city  in  the  Confederacy.  Thousands  of 
bales  of  cotton  arrived  daily,  and  immense  fortunes 
were  made.  The  town  was  loaded  right  up  to  the  muz- 
zle like  a  public  spirited  4th  of  July  cannon,  not  with 
gun  cotton,  but  with  sons  of  guns  of  cotton  speculators. 
Col.  Duff,  the  Confederate  post  commander,  put  guards 
around  the  town  one  morning  early,  and  compelled 
every  adult  male  inhabitant  to  come  up  to  the  captain's 
office,  and  exhibit  his  credentials  why  he  was  not  busy 
in  the  tented  field  picking  out  a  conspicuous  place  for 
his  bones  to  bleach.  There  was  more  weeping  and 
wailing  and  cursing  among  the  Brownsville  Israelites 
than  at  any  time  since  the  siege  of  Jerusalem.  Among 
these  who  were  led  captive  up  to  headquarters  at  Fort 
Brown  was  Lavanburg.  He  was  negotiating  for  a  lot 
of  cotton,  which  he  was  afraid  another  Israelite  would 
gobble  up  if  he  let  the  owner  out  of  sight,  so  when  he, 
Lavanburg,  was  told  by  his  escort,  myself,  that  he  would 
probably  start  on  foot  for  Virginia  to  assist  in  the  capt- 
ure of  Washington  City,  he  was  very  much  impressed. 
But  he  did  not  kneel  down  and  pray  for  the  success  of 
the  Confederacy.  I  had  my  eye  on  him,  and  if  he  had 
done  so,  I  should  have  noticed  it." 

"  Well,  what  about  his  substitute?" 


ii6  SKETCHES  FROM 

"  The  only  thing  left  for  Lavanburg  to  do  was  to  pro- 
cure a  substitute  to  furnish  the  bones  to  bleach  on  some 
historic  battle-field.  Lavanburg  was  perfectly  willing 
to  hire  a  substitute,  and  allow  him  to  furnish  the  bones, 
but  there  was  none  in  the  market.  Bones  had  "  riz  "  in 
consequence  of  the  demand.  As  luck  would  have  it, 
just  at  this  crisis,  a  French  deserter  from  Maximillian's 
army  came  across  the  river  at  Brownsville.  He  had  a 
full  set  of  bones,  and  he  agreed  to  strew  them  himself, 
if  Lavanburg  would  shell  out  $400  in  gold.  So  Lavan- 
burg's  substitute  was  conscripted  into  my  company — 
very  good  company  it  was,  too." 

"  Well,  tell  us  about  Lavanburg's  substitute." 
"  He  was  a  little  bit  of  a  weazened  up,  black  eyed, 
blackbearded  Frenchman,  but  the  way  he  could  go 
through  the  bayonet  exercise  was  worth  paying  admis- 
sion to  behold.  To  see  him  form  himself  into  a  hollow 
square  and  resist  a  cavalry  charge,  then  turn  a  back 
handed  summersault  through  the  air,  alight  on  his  feet, 
and  hurl  back  an  imaginary  hostile  brigade,  was  so  ter- 
ribly realistic — so  very  like  the  ghastly  reality  of  war, 
that  some  of  the  officers  seriously  thought  of  sending 
in  their  resignations;  for  up  to  that  time,  the  only  hot 
fire  we  had  been  under  very  much  was  the  camp-fire. 
We  were  1,500  miles  from  the  hireling  foe,  and  couldn't 
get  any  farther  away  without  going  into  Mexico." 
"Well,  but  what  about  Lavanburg's  substitute?" 
"  He  got  to  be  very  popular  with  the  officers.  He 
used  to  salute  them  by  presenting  arms  when  they  rode 
past.  The  Texas  soldiers  did  not  go  much  on  style.  If 
an  officer  of  high  rank  rode  past  a  Texas  boy  on  guard, 
and  he  happened  to  see  the  officer  of  rank,  he  would 
stop  playing  cards,  or  whatever  else  he  was  doing,  and 
call  out:     '  I  say,  Colonel,  come  over  here  and  give  me 


''TEXAS     SIFTlNGSr  iry 

a  chaw  of  tobacco.'  And  if  the  Colonel  said  he  didn't 
have  any,  the  stern  sentinel  on  the  watch  tower  of  duty 
would  reply: 

"Well,  why  in   the  haven't  you  got  some?' 

But  that  was  not  the  way  Lavanburg's  substitute  stood 
guard.  He  always  walked  his  post  and  kept  so  wide 
awake  that  the  Yankees  would  have  a  hard  time  getting 
into  camp  unobserved.  When  an  officer  appeared,  he 
brought  his  gun  to  a  present.  The  officers  liked  that, 
and  would  ride  past  him  a  dozen  times  a  day,  and  oc- 
casionally the  Colonel  would  stop  and  talk  to  him,  like 
Napoleon  conversing  familiarly  with  one  of  his  old 
guard.  I  heard  George  Caldwell,  who  was  adjutant, 
and  now  lives  in  San  Antonio,  tell  Tom  Brackenridge, 
who  was  major,  that  if  there  were  a  couple  of  hundred 
Lavanburg  substitutes  in  the  regiment,  instead  of  being 
on  the  Rio  Grande,  we  would  be  in  Washington  City, 
or  New  York,  guarding  Federal  prisoners.  Major  Brack- 
enridge replied  that  the  failure  of  Confederate  soldiers 
to  present  arms  to  their  superior  officers  was  the  real 
cause  of  European  nations  failing  to  recognize  the  Con- 
federacy." 

"  That's  very  interesting,  but  why  don't  you  tell  us 
something  about  Lavanburg's  substitute?  Did  he  find 
a  convenient  place  where  he  could  bleach  his  bones?" 

"  I'll  get  there  before  the  break  up.  One  day  he  and 
another  soldier  got  to  fooling  with  sabers.  Lavanburg's 
substitute  got  excited.  His  eyes  stuck  out,  his  hair 
stood  up  on  end,  and  he  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a 
black,  hairy  tarantula  that  had  been  stirred  up,  and  the 
consequence  was  that  the  Texas  soldier  got  stuck  in  the 
arm.  The  rest  of  the  soldiers  were  very  indignant,  but 
the  officers  said  that  there  would  be  no  discipline  left 
if  Lavanburg's  substitute  was  not  encouraged,  and  they 


ii8  SKETCHES    FROM 

threatened  the  wounded  man  with  the  guard-house. 
Shortly  after  that,  while  in  winter  quarters,  Lavanburg's 
substitute,  in  describing  the  assault  on  the  Malakoff, 
seized  a  gun,  jumped  upon  the  second  tier  of  bunks, 
shouting:  '  Vive  la  France!'  bayonetted  a  pair  of  new 
saddle-bags  worth  $1,700  in  Confederate  money,  new 
issue,  and  cocking  his  gun,  fired,  and  shot  a  piece  out 
of  Corporal  Burney's  ear,  who  was  trying  to  escape. 
Heretofore  it  was  only  the  officers  who  admired  him, 
but  after  that  the  whole  regiment  respected  him  so 
much  that  they  talked  about  taking  him  out  and  hang- 
ing him.  In  fact,  some  of  the  soldiers  asked  what  was 
the  use  of  keeping  the  regiment  where  the  Yankees 
couldn't  find  it,  if  they  were  to  be  slaughtered  in  detail 
by  a  cranky  substitute.  Some  of  the  boys  went  home 
on  a  furlough  and  haven't  got  back  yet." 

"Did  the  substitute  ever  get  a  chance  at  the  Federal 
army?" 

"Yes,  at  Indianola.  There  were  three  thousand  Fed- 
erals there  under  Gen.  Warren.  The  substitute  was 
very  much  distressed  because  there  were  not  more.  He 
wanted  to  make  up  for  the  lost  time  during  which  he 
had  not  slaughtered  any  hostile  foe.  He  was  sent  out 
on  picket  duty.  The  first  chance  he  had  he  made  a 
break  for  the  town,  and  that  was  the  last  we  ever  saw 
of  Lavanburg's  substitute." 

"  He  was  probably  killed  by  the  Federals." 

"  Well,  I'm  not  sure  about  it.  A  prisoner  we  capt- 
ured afterwards  told  us  that  a  deserter  from  our  side, 
who  answered  the  substitute's  description  very  well,  had 
drawn  his  bounty  as  a  Federal  recruit,  and  was  acting- 
orderly  for  Gen.  Warren." 


^  TEXAS    SIFTINGS. 


119 


A     TEXAS     MUSTANG 


^^A 


When  the  for- 
eigner pictures  a 
Texas  mustang  in 
his  mind's  eye,  he 
thinks  of  a  noble 
jet  black  horse, 
small  and  com- 
pactly built,  with 
an  arched  neck,  a 
flowing  mane,  and 
a  prodigal  wealth 
of  tail.  He  gets  his 
idea  from  reading 
the  Mayne  Reid 
class  of  illustrated 
lies  of  border  life, 
where  the  "  noble  courser  of  the  prairies  "  is  represent- 
ed as  performing  extraordinary  feats  in  carrying  his 
rider  beyond  the  reach  of  a  band  of  pursuing  savages, 
who  are  left  behind  on  the  frontier  of  the  picture.  In 
the  illustrations  the  mustang  has  a  flashing  eye,  a  dis- 
tended nostril,  a  1:39!  g^^^'  ^^^  ^  ^^^^  ^^^^  reaches  to 
the  southwestern  corner  of  the  chromo.  These  pict- 
ures, and  the  ghastly  realities  that  exist  on  the  Texas 
prairies,  remind  one  of  the  gigantic  pomoiogical  speci- 
mens, rich  in  color  and  juicy  looking,  that  are  painted 
on  the  outside  of  a  can  of  preserved  strawberries,  and 
of  the  poor  little  pale,  dwarfed  berries  inside. 

The  mustang  is  a  species  of  horse,  angular  as  a  rail 


I20  SKETCHES    FROM 

fence,  and  without  a  pedigree.  A  difference  of  opinion 
exists  as  to  his  origin.  Some  say  that  he  is  of  Span- 
ish origin — descended  from  the  horses  brought  from 
Spain  Dy  Cortez  during  the  conquest  of  Mexico,  while 
others  are  strongly  of  opinion  that  the  original  father 
of  the  race  was  a  clothes-horse,  and  the  female  fons  et 
origo  a  nightmare.  From  the  fact  that  the  mustang  is 
destitute  of  blood,  and  taking  into  account  his  archi- 
tectural construction,  we  are  inclined  to  believe  that  the 
latter  conjecture  is  the  correct  one. 

He  averages  about  fourteen  hands  in  height.  He  has 
large  ears,  a  long  head,  short  mane,  and  burs  in  his 
tail.  He  is  seldom  fat,  has  a  protracted  body,  thin 
shoulders  and  hams^  and  looks  not  unlike  a  section  of 
a  railroad  trestle.  In  a  late  paper  we  read  a  description 
of  a  Texas  mustang,  by  Rev.  W.  H.  Murray,  the  cele- 
brated Boston  preacher.  Brother  Murray's  mustang  is 
the  kind  that  thrives  only  in  the  "  Frontier  Scout "  class 
of  literature.  When  the  preacher  wrote  the  description 
referred  to,  he  took  such  a  grip  on  truth,  and  stretched 
it  so  far,  that  away  off  here  in  Austin  we  heard  it 
crack. 

The  genuine  Texas  mustang  is  a  parody  on  the  horse, 
but  he  is  a  very  useful  animal,  nevertheless.  In  driving 
cattle  he  is  more  active  and  valuable  than  a  large  horse 
would  be;  and  in  the  matter  of  shaking  up  the  liver 
of  an  invalid,  who  has  been  ordered  to  take  horseback 
exercise  for  his  health,  the  Texas  mustang  is  a  tri- 
umphant success. 

• o-^<§><2^ 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS: 


121 


THE     TUMBLE-BUG, 


The  foreigner  in 
Texas  is  frequent- 
ly astonished  as  he 
drives  along  the 
road  or  walks  in 
the  outskirts  of  the 
city,  to  see  a  ball, 
somewhat  above 
the  average  size  of 
a  boy's  marble,  roll 
^  along,  while    there 

is  no  boy  in  the  immediate  neighborhood.  Sometimes 
there  will  be  a  number  of  these  little  balls  moving  up 
hill  without  any  apparent  propelling  power,  and  in  vi- 
olation of  all  the  laws  of  force  and  gravitation.  Upon 
careful  examination  the  foreigner  will  find  a  black 
beetle  on  the  windward  side  of  each  ball,  standing  on 
its  head  and  hands,  and  with  its  hind  legs  pushing  the 
ball  along.  This  beetle  is  called,  in  the  vernacular  and 
in  Texas,  a  tumble-bug. 

Some  scientists  have  ascertained  that  the  male  tum- 
ble-bug rolls  the  balls  about  for  exercise  or  amusement, 
just  as  the  fashionable  young  men  push  billiard  balls 
about  with  the  cue.  Other  scientists,  however,  assert 
that  this  is  all  humbug — that  it  is  only  the  female  tum- 
ble-bug that  rolls  the  balls,  and  that  she  lays  her  eggs 
in  them.  We  do  not  believe  that  any  female  tumble- 
bug  would  be  so  indelicate  as  to  stand  on  her  hands 
and  push  a  ball  along  with  her  feet,  as  depicted  by  our 


SKETCHES  FROM 


artist.  It  is  a  slander  on  the  sex.  At  the  same  time, 
as  both  male  and  female  dress  alike — in  black — it  is  a 
very  difficult  question  to  determine. 

We  have  only  been  acquainted  with  the  tumble-bug 
during  the  summer  months,  and  therefore  do  not  know 
what  he  does  in  winter.  During  the  long  summer 
days,  however,  he  is  surcharged  with  industry  in  the 
matter  of  building  spheres  of  the  aromatic  fertilizer 
that,  either  owing  to  its  cohesiveness,  or  for  some  other 
reason,  is  always  chosen,  and  after  having  constructed 
the  balls  he  exhibits  more  zeal  than  judgment  in  roll- 
ing them  along  over  every  object  that  intervenes  be- 
tween the  place  of  construction  and  the  hole  prepared 
for  them.  Standing  on  his  head  like  a  clown  in  a  cir- 
cus, and  placing  his  hind  feet  on  the  ball,  he  pushes  it 
before,  or,  more  correctly  speaking,  behind  him.  He 
resembles  the  soldiers  who,  during  the  war,  preferred 
to  advance  backwards,  and  in  the  matter  of  the  muscu- 
lar development  of  his  hind  legs,  he  is  related  to  the 
mule. 

The  tumble-bug's  wife  lays  an  ^'g^  inside  the  ball,  or 
rather  lays  an  ^gg  and  then  has  the  male  bug  build  a 
ball  around  it.  When  finished,  he  starts  out  with  it,  and 
often  makes  a  hundred  futile  attempts  to  get  it  over  an 
obstruction  in  his  path  before  he  realizes  that  it  would 
be  easier  to  go  around  the  obstruction.    In  this  respect 

he  resembles but  moralizing  is  not  our  province,  and, 

besides,  some  men  might  not  like  to  be  compared  to 
the  tumble-bug.  When  a  tumble-bug  gets  tired  and 
discouraged  trying  to  roll  a  ball  over  rough  ground, 
he  quits  it  right  there,  but  as  soon  as  he  is  rested  he 
starts  another  ball  in  some  other  locality.  That  seems 
to  be  his  mission,  just  as  some  men  travel  about,  start- 
ing a  newspaper,  and  aft^r  they  have  rolled  it  for  a 


"TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  123 

while  until  they  get  tired,  they  quit,  fly  away  and  start 
afresh  paper  in  some  other  locality.  By  the  way,  there 
is,  or  was,  a  newspaper  in  Texas  called  the  Moving 
Ball. 

Occasionally  when  he  gets  his  ball  in  the  deep  track 
of  a  wheel,  he  has  to  roll  it  along  for  half  a  mile  before 
he  finds  a  place  to  get  it  out.  When  a  tumble-bug  gets 
killed  by  the  wheel  of  a  passing  vehicle,  and  his  rela- 
tives come  out  to  look  for  the  body,  the  most  influen- 
tial member  of  the  family  usually,  without  administer- 
ing on  the  estate,  takes  possession  of  the  property  be- 
longing to  the  deceased,  and  appropriates  it  to  his  own 
use  and  benefit.  Quarrels  among  the  bereaved  relatives 
and  bitter  feuds  are  often  the  result  of  such  proceed- 
ings. 

Most  of  the  good  qualities  of  the  tumble-bug  are  of 
a  negative  character.  He  attends  strictly  to  his  own 
business  affairs,  and  never  becomes  annoying  with  a 
long  bill,  which  is  higher  praise  than  can  be  truthfully 
bestowed  on  the  mosquito.  The  tumble-bug  does  not 
sing,  neither  does  it  play  on  the  flute  nor  piano.  The 
bug  is  never  guilty  of  the  impropriety  of  getting  into 
bed  with  people,  as  do  fleas  and  some  other  insects. 
There  is  another  thing  about  tumble-bugs  worthy  of 
notice.  They  are  all  as  black  as  the  ace  of  spades.  No- 
body ever  saw  a  saddle-colored,  cream-colored,  or  a  mu- 
latto tumble-bug  of  any  color.  This  speaks  whole  vol- 
umes in  their  favor. 


There  is  no  place  like  Chicago,  says  a  Garden  City 
paper.  We  rejoice  to  be  assured  of  that  fact,  for  al- 
though it  was  said  that  the  revisers  took  it  out  of  the 
old  edition,  we  still  had  our  doubt  that  there  was  such 
a  place: 


^ 


124 


SKETCHES  FROM 


THROWING    THE     LASSO, 


A  ROPE,  or  lasso,  is  a  harmless  looking  thing,  but  in 
the  hands  of  a  Mexican  it  becomes  a  terrible  weapon. 
A  Mexican  can  yank  a  Yankee,  or  any  other  hostile  in- 
truder he  has  a  spite  at,  out  of  the  saddle,  as  quick  as 
the  President  of  the  United  States  can  remove  an  un- 
worthy office  holder  who  is  irregular  in  sending  in  his 
campaign  assessments  according  to  the  civil  service  re- 
form rules.  The  dexterity  of  a  Mexican  vaquero  in 
handling  a  rope  has  to  be  seen  to  be  believed.  During 
the  war  with  the  French,  one  of  Maximillian's  best 
cavalry  officers,  a  Pole,  was  caught  out,  so  to  speak,  by 
the  Mexicans,  with  a  lasso,  around  Monterey  and  his 
neck,  and  dragged  to  death.    Every  Mexican  is  danger- 


"  TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  125 

ous  when  he  has  got  a  lasso  in  his  hands.  Even  a  good- 
natured  Mexican,  who  has  been  born  without  any  armsr 
is  not  to  be  trusted  when  he  has  got  a  lasso  in  his  hands 
— as  we  heard  an  Irishman  once  remark.  In  roping 
cattle  and  horses,  the  Mexican  removes  the  calico  rem- 
nant from  the  shrubbery.  A  vaquero  gracefully  swings 
the  lasso,  gives  it  an  apparently  careless  toss,  and  it  is 
sure  to  encircle  the  neck  of  any  particular  animal  in  the 
herd  he  may  have  singled  out.  He,  the  Mexican,  then 
throws  his  horse  on  its  haunches,  the  lasso  becomes 
taut,  and  so  does  the  animal.  It  is  taught  that  it  is  no 
use  trying  to  escape  from  a  Mexican  with  a  lasso.  Like 
most  other  harmless  looking  weapons,  the  lasso  is  dan- 
gerous to  persons  who  do  not  know  how  to  handle  it, 
and  to  demonstrate  this  we  submit  the  following: 

A  few  days  ago,  we  met  a  newly  arrived  Englishman 
coming  down  Austin  Avenue  on  crutches.  He  wore 
his  head  in  a  bandage,  his  nose  was  skinned,  and 
there  were  other  indications  of  his  having  either  leaned 
up  against  the  propeller  of  a  mule  to  rest  himself,  or  of 
his  having  questioned  the  veracity  of  some  native 
Texan.  When  you  see  an  Englishman  in  Texas,  who 
looks  as  if  he  needed  medicine,  you  may  be  sure  he  is 
one  of  Dr.  Kingsbury's  patients.  At  least,  that  is  what 
all  sick  Englishmen  in  Texas  claim.  This  one  told  a 
touching  story  of  how  he  met  Dr.  Kingsbury  in  London, 
and  after  they  '"ad  'ad  some  'arf  and  'arf,  ye  know," 
the  doctor  had  given  him  a  florid  description  of  Texas, 
how  pine  apples  grew  on  the  prickly  pear  bushes,  and 
boxes  of  oranges  dropping  ripe  from  the  trees  encum- 
bered the  sidewalks;  but  what  induced  the  young  En- 
glishman to  leave  his  happy  home  and  come  to  Texas, 
to  enjoy  sport  and  to  acquire  great  riches,  suddenly, 
was  the  description  of  what  sport  it  was  to  lasso  cattle. 


126  SKETCHES    FROM 

"So  you  have  been  roping  cattle,  have  you?"  we 
asked. 

He  said  he  had  hired  a  horse,  saddle,  and  "lassoo," 
and  had  ridden  up  to  a  steer.  As  his  bad  luck  would 
have  it,  he  succeeded  in  throwing  the  rope  over  the  an- 
imal's horns.  It  galloped  off.  Johnny  followed  the 
doctor's  directions  about  reining  in  his  horse,  and  the 
consequence  was  that  the  saddle,  with  the  Englishman 
in  it,  went  over  the  horse's  neck.  He  had  tied  the 
"lassoo"  to  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  just  as  Kings- 
bury told  him  to  do.  The  steer  galloped  off  with  the 
saddle,  like  a  dog  with  a  tin  kettle  tied  to  his  tail.  It 
was  worth  $15,  which  the  Englishman  had  to  pay,  but 
as  the  "  lassoo  "  was  gone,  too,  he  paid  up  cheerfully. 
He  wanted  to  return  to  England  to  write  a  book  about 
Texas  sports  and  games.  He  had  already  written  a 
letter  to  the  London  Times  denouncing  Kingsbury  as 
unreliable.  He  also  wanted  the  money  returned  that 
he  had  invested  in  his  Texas  pleasure  trip.  We  told 
him  there  was  no  trouble  about  getting  his  money.  All 
he  had  to  do  was  to  make  out  his  bill,  go  over  to  San 
Antonio,  and  present  it  to  Colonel  H.  B.  Andrews,  who 
would  hand  out  a  check  for  the  amount;  that  Col. 
Peirce,  President  of  the  Sunset  route,  had  given  Col. 
Andrews  written  permission  to  pay  out  of  his,  Andrews' 
own  pocket,  any  and  all  sums  of  money  that  he  pleased 
to  give  to  dissatisfied  English  immigrants.  The  English- 
man called  a  hack  to  take  him  to  the  train  bound  for 
San  Antonio,  and  as  he  disappeared  from  sight,  who 
should  come  up  but  Bill  Snort,  of  the  Crosby  County 
Clarion  and  Farmers'  Vi?idicator? 

We  told  Bill  about  the  bad  luck  of  the  young  English- 
man who  succeeded  in  roping  a  Texan  steer,  when  he, 
Colonel  Snort,  spoke  up,  and  said  that  if  he  was  proper- 


''TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  127 

ly  encouraged  he  would  give  us  some  of  his  experiences 
with  the  lasso. 

After  having  been  encouraged  twice,  with  a  cigar 
thrown  in,  Bill  settled  himself  in  one  of  the  editorial 
thrones,  and  let  himself  out  as  follows: 

"  The  first  time  I  ever  fooled  with  a  lasso,  or  rather 
got  fooled  by  a  lasso,  was  when  I  was  a  mere  boy,  a 
playful  child,  so  to  speak.  As  I  did  not  want  to  put  my 
parents  to  the  expense  of  buying  a  lasso,  I  cut  twenty 
feet  off  the  clothes  line.  I  then  took  a  position  on  the 
corner  and  lay  in  wait  for  a  victim.  An  aged  Mexican 
came  jogging  along  on  a  pacing  pony,  little  imagining 
what  was  in  store  for  him.  I  was  nearly  delirious  with 
joy  at  my  lasso  catching  his  horse  by  the  hind  foot.  As 
I  had  tied  the  other  end  of  the  rope  to  my  wrist,  there 
was  no  chance  for  him  to  escape.  The  next  thing  I  re- 
membered was  a  jerk  at  my  arm  that  can  only  be  com- 
pared to  the  shake  of  a  candidate's  hand  on  election 
day,  after  which  I  trotted  mechanically  behind  the  old 
Mexican,  who  did  not  seem  to  know  what  a  smart  boy 
he  had  caught.  The  people  on  the  sidewalk  took  in  the 
situation,  but  they  were  doubled  up  too  much  with 
laughter  to  render  me  much  assistance.  When  the  old 
Mexican  traveled  faster  I  humored  him,  and  kept  up 
with  the  procession.  1  prayed,  however,  loud  and  ear- 
nestly, that  he  might  stop  before  my  arm  came  off.  My 
prayers  were  answered  miraculously.  He  saw  what  was 
the  matter.  He  dismounted  and  took  the  rope  off  his 
horse's  hind  leg.  Then  he  began  to  haul  me  in  as  if-  I 
were  a  big  fish.  I  began  to  regret  that  my  prayers  for 
him  to  stop  had  been  so  promptly  answered,  for  there 
was  an  expression  in  the  aged  Aztec's  collection  of  feat- 
ures that  filled  me  with  gloomy  forebodings.  He  was 
not  in  a  hurry  to  take  the  rope  off  my  wrist.   He  swung 


128  SKETCHES    FROM 

the  other  end  of  the  rope  around  his  head,  and  then  I 
began  to  revolve  around  him  like  a  planet  around  the 
sun,  he  keeping  up  the  centrifugal  force  and  the  heat 
v^ith  the  end  of  the  rope.  After  he  had  taken  more  ex- 
ercise than  was  necessary  for  a  man  of'his  age,  he  took 
the  rope  off  my  wrist,  and  I  flew  off  into  space  at  a 
tangent  and  a  high  rate  of  speed.  He  did  not  give  me 
back  the  rope  either,  but  I  did  not  miss  it,  for  I  got 
some  more  rope  at  home — got  it  on  the  same  place,  too 
— when  my  immediate  ancestors  discovered  that  the 
clothes  line  was  too  short." 

"That  cured  the  dog  of  sucking  eggs,  didn't  it?" 
queried  one  of  the  Sifters. 

"  Well,  my  recollection  is  that  it  did  for  a  while,"  re- 
sumed Bill,  "but  the  cure  was  not  permanent.  About 
a  year  afterwards  the  city  marshal  issued  a  proclama- 
tion offering  twenty-five  cents  reward  for  every  unli- 
censed dog  delivered  at  the  pound.  Here  was  a  chance 
for  a  live,  energetic  boy  to  turn  an  honest  quarter. 
The  recollection  of  my  former  misfortune  had  faded 
out  with  the  marks  of  the  rope.  I  got  another  lasso, 
and  watched  for  a  dog.  The  first  dog  I  saw  was  sev- 
eral sizes  too  large  to  suit  me,  and,  besides,  I  was 
afraid  he  would  not  lead  well.  With  my  usual  good 
luck  the  rope  caught  him  around  the  neck,  and  I  began 
to  tow  him  in  the  direction  of  the  pound.  At  first  he 
did  not  understand  what  I  wanted,  and  held  back  until 
I  had  nearly  pulled  his  head  off,  when  he  suddenly  came 
toward  me,  whereupon  I  abruptly  sat  down  on  the  back 
of  my  head,  and  came  very  near  impairing  my  future 
usefulness.  But  that  was  a  splendid  dog  to  lead.  He 
not  only  came  right  up  to  me,  but  he  went  past  me. 
The  only  fault  I  could  find  with  him  was  that  in  pass- 
ing me  he  carried  off  some  of  my  clothes  in  his  mouth. 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  129 

He  must  have  got  a  taste  of  me  in  his  mouth,  too.  He 
went  on  past  to  the  end  of  the  rope.  This  time,  for- 
tunately, I  had  not  tied  the  rope  to  my  wrist,  so  I  did 
not  have  to  follow  him  unless  I  had  wanted  to.  I 
thought  I  would  check  him  up  a  little,  so  I  pulled  the 
rope.  I  never  saw  such  an  easy  dog  to  lead.  He 
turned  right  around  and  came  back  at  me  with  his 
mouth  open,  as  if  he  wanted  the  rest  of  my  clothes  and 
another  mouthful  of  boy.  I  turned  the  brute  loose, 
and  fled.  It  was  so  easy  to  lead  him.  I  led  him  right 
up  to  a  tree,  and  the  affectionate  brute  would  have  fol- 
lowed me  up  the  tree  if  he  had  only  had  a  ladder.  Fin- 
nally  he  went  off  with  my  lasso,  and  the  two  bits  I 
was  to  get  for  leading  him  to  the  pound.  Right  then 
and  there,  sitting  on  the  limb  of  that  tree,  I  registered 
a  solemn  vow  never  to  fool  with  a  lasso  again.  But  I 
must  be  going.     I  have  an  appointment.     Good-bye." 


EIGHTEEN     EIGHTY-ONE. 


Death  stares  old  '81  in  the  face.  Its  days  are  num- 
bered and  its  last  hour  is  at  hand.  Its  ebb  of  life  is 
low,  and  the  death-rattle  can  almost  be  heard  as,  with 
one  foot  already  in  the  grave,  it  is  rapidly  hastening 
into  the  ultimo  of  time.  A  few  more  hours  and  all  that 
will  be  left  to  remind  us  of  '81  will  be  some  old  fa- 
miliar unpaid  bills,  and  the  shattered  fragments  of  the 
high  resolves  we  made  when  the  year  was  young.  As 
the  old  year,  shrouded  in  penitence,  regrets  and  remgrse, 
is  salted  away  in  the  grave  of  the  past,  and  the  new 
year,  just  freed  from  the  womb  of  futurity,  is  being 
dressed  in  the  garments  of  hope  and  good  resolutions. 


I30  SKETCHES  FROM 

it  is  a  fitting  time  to  moralize,  to  hold  a  convention  of 
one's  self,  call  for  an  annual  report,  read  and  discuss  it, 
and  pass  resolutions  regarding  future  actions.  It  is 
also  a  good  time  to  take  another  "last  snifter"  before 
swearing  off. 

Taking  a  retrospective  glance  over  the  late  lamented, 
we  find  that  we  have  done  many  things  we  ought  not  to 
have  done,  and  have  left  undone  many  things  that  we 
ought  to  have  done.  We  remember  one  case  wherein 
we  failed  to  do  our  duty,  and  for  our  neglect  we  can 
never  forgive  ourselves.  It  was  on  a  bright  summer 
morning,  some  months  ago,  that  a  poor  but  dishonest 
looking  man  came  slowly  up  the  stairs  and,  falling  over 
a  cast  iron  waste  basket  into  our  editorial  boudoir,  in- 
troduced himself  as  "  An  old  subscriber."  {Sif tings  wslS 
only  two  months  old  at  the  time.)  He  said  he  did  not 
know  how  we  were  able  to  bear  up  under  the  strain  of 
originating  so  many  different  things  every  week,  and  he 
just  called  to  help  us  out  by  presenting  us  with  an  en- 
tirely original  joke  of  his  own  manufacture.  He  said 
we  could  palm  it  off  on  the  public  as  our  own,  without 
any  extra  charge.  We  read  the  manuscript,  and  dis- 
covered that  the  joke  was  one  imported  by  Stephen  F. 
Austin,  with  the  first  colonists  who  came  to  Texas  in 
1821,  and  that  it  had  been  in  use  so  much  since  that  it 
was  frayed  on  the  edges,  and  needed  re-japanning  and 
varnishing  to  make  it  look  even  second  handed.  Then 
we  took  that  guileless  man  and,  after  hitting  him  on 
the  head  with  an  unabridged  Webster's  dictionary, 
threw  him  out  of  the  window. 

We  have  ever  since  been  naunted  by  the  thought  that 
we  did  not  do  what  was  right  by  that  poor,  misguided 
man.  We  should  have  taken  him  out  and  held  him  on 
the  street  car  track  until  an  Avenue  car  had  passed  over 


TEXAS  SIFTINGSr 


131 


his  neck,  or  we  should  have  compelled  him  to  smoke 
one  of  the  five  cent  cigars  out  of  the  box  presented  to 
us  by  an  admirer  in  Dallas. 

We  are  burdened  with  self-reproach  for  having  made 
many  such  mistakes,  during  the  year,  but — 

"What  is  done  cannot  be  now  amended, 
Men  will  deal  unadvisedly  sometimes, 
Which  after  hours  give  leisure  to  repent." 
After  all,  however,  we  have  not  much  cause  to  com- 
plain of  the  experience,  pleasure  and  profit  that  1881 
brought  us.     We  feel  kindly  toward  the  old  year  as  it 
rolls  back  into  the  crypt  of  past  ages.     Its  early  days 
found  us  enjoying  many  blessings,  and   its  close  leaves 
us  in  the  enjoyment  of  many  more.     As  the  bells  "  ring 
out  the  old  and  ring  in  the  new,"  we  sigh  over  the  Has 
Been,  and  turn  with  a  smile  of  hope  and  pleasant  an- 
ticipations toward  the  To  Be,  for — 

"The  years  have  linings,  just  as  goblets  do; 
The  old  year  is  the  lining  of  the  new; — 
Filled  with  the  wine  of  precious  memories, 
The  golden  Was  doth  line  the  silver  Is." 

CORRECT    LOGIC. 

He  was  lying  in  front  of  the  store  door  when  the 
merchant  came  out,  and  stirring  him  up  with  the  toe  of 
his  bcot,  said: 

"Are  you  drunk?" 

"  Vou  bet." 

"  Then  you  move  off  from  here." 

*'  Are  you  drunk?  "queried  the  inebriate. 

"No;  I  am  sober,"  was  the  indignant  response. 

"  Then  you  can  move  off  from  here  a — hie — sight 
easier  than  I  can." 


132 


SKETCHES  FROM 


WE    HAVE    SWORN     OFF, 


■      MassBf;?^ 


On  the  ist  day  of  January,  1882,  a  business  meeting 
of  the  Proprietors,  Editors,  and  Sifters  of  this  paper  was 
held  in  the  editorial  arena  at  No.  914  Congress  Avenue, 
Austin,  Texas.  The  Proprietors,  Editors,  and  Sifters 
were  all  present.  In  other  words  we  were  both  in  at- 
tendance. Judge  Sweet  and  Col.  Knox  were  both  put 
in  nomination  for  the  position  of  chairman.  The  bal- 
lot resulted  in  a  tie  vote,  each  nominee  having  voted  for 
himself.  The  deadlock  was  broken  by  a  motion  to  elect 
two  chairmen,  one  to  act  as  presiding  officer,  while  the 
other  should  have  the  floor;  motion  carried.  Theread- 
mg  of  the  minutes  of  the  last  meeting  were  dispensed 
with,  as  there  had  not  been  any  last  meeting. 

Judge  Sweet  presented  the  following  resolution: 

Whereas,  this  being  the  dawn  of  a  new  year,  and  it 
being  right  and  proper  that  we  celebrate  it  as  has  been 
the  custom  from  time  immemorial,  therefore  be  it 

Resolved^  That  we  swear  off. 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  133 

The  resolution  having  been  adopted,  Col.  Knox  was 
appointed  a  committee  to  draw  up  a  select  assortment 
of  resolutions  regarding  a  swearing  off  platform.  The 
Colonel  retired,  and,  after  an  absence  of  half  an  hour, 
returned  accompanied  by  the  aroma  of  a  coffee  bean, 
and  presented  the  following: 

SIFTINGS'    PLATFORM    FOR    1882. 

Be  it  Resolved,  That  during  the  year  1882  we  shall 
continue  to  be,  in  politics,  independent;  in  criticism, 
impartial;  in  the  matter  of  publishing  original  poetry, 
abstemious;  in  comments,  good  natured,  and  in  all 
things  as  truthful  as  heretofore.  As  our  circulation 
bids  fair  to  reach  50,000  copies  before  the  end  of  the 
year,  we  can  afford  to  be  magnanimous  to  our  enemies, 
and  therefore  promise  not  to  speak  of  any  of  our  con- 
temporaries as  "hell-hounds."  We  shall  cultivate 
charity  and  benevolence  toward  the  needy.  As  evidence 
of  our  intention  to  relieve  the  wants  of  those  less  fortu- 
nate or  less  prosperous  than  ourselves,  we  hereby  pledge 
ourselves,  on  application  from  any  poor  or  dishonest 
person,  who  will  prove  to  us  that  he  or  she  is  really  de- 
serving of  our  bounty,  to  give  said  person  one  copy  of 
Texas  Sif tings  every  week  for  one  year  on  receipt  of  $2 
cash,  (clubs  of  five,  25  per  cent,  discount.  Money  to 
be  sent  by  P.  O.  orders  or  in  registered  letters.) 

Resolved,  That  we  shall  not  refuse  any  presents  (razor- 
back  hogs  and  other  live-stock  excepted)  that  may  be 
forced  upon  us  by  friends  and  admirers,  and  our  public 
acknowledgment  of  the  same,  and  our  deep  sense  of 
obligation,  will  be  governed  by  the  following  scale: 
When  we  receive  a  present  of  a  hat  (our  size  is  7^), 
same  to  be  acknowledged  in  ten  lines,  and  donor  called 
Major. 


134  SKETCHES  FROM 

When  a  box  of  cigars  (we  smoke  Colorado-Maduro) 
is  sent  us,  a  fifteen  line  acknowledgment,  and  donor  to 
be  called   our   public-spirited    fellow  citizen.  Colonel 

.     Should  liquid  encouragement  accompany  the 

cigars,  the  donor  to  receive  further  military  promotion, 
and  to  be  called  a  patron  of  literature;  and  a  touching 
reference  to  be  made  to  the  disinterested  benevolence 
of  his  character. 

A  bottle  of  home-made  mustang  wine  will  only  be 
acknowledged  in  the  advertising  columns  at  usual 
rates. 

Resolved^  That  we  hereby  swear  off  using  any  stimu- 
lating beverages,  said  swear-off  to  continue  and  be  in 
force  for  one  year  from  date,  with  the  following  excep- 
tions regarding  time  and  place,  that  is  to  say,  that  the 
rules  may  be  suspended,  and  we  may,  under  advise- 
ment, take  certain  stimulants  solely  and  strictly  as 
medicine: 

1.  When  samples  are  sent  to  the  office. 

2.  When  laboring  under  a  sense  of  discouragement. 

3.  When  we  receive  a  new  subscriber. 

4.  When  we  feel  that  we  actually  need  something. 

5.  On  any  special  occasion. 

But  at  all  other  times  we  will  abstain  from  drinking 
anything  of  a  stimulating  nature,  and,  moreover,  we 
solemnly  pledge  ourselves  not  to  drink  anything  either 
during  the  year  1881,  which  has  just  closed,  or  during 
any  of  the  previous  years  since  the  creation  of  the 
world. 

i»-&<5o<2^ 

Blind  Tom  plays  7,000  pieces  on  the  piano.  He  is 
accompanied  by  a  kind-hearted  man  who  sees  that  no- 
body else  takes  advantage  of  Tom. 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS: 


135 


THE     EGOTISTICAL     BORE. 


[Some  men  are  born  bores,  some  become  bores,  and  some  have 
bores  thrust  upon  them. J 

The  egotistical  bore  is  quite 
common,  and  he  is  to  be  found 
in  every  grade  of  society.  He 
never  asks  your  opinion  about 
anything,  but,  in  an  I-am-sir- 
oracle  way,  says  "  I  feel  " — "  I 
am  positive  that" — "I  tell 
you,  sir — "  "I  can  assure  you," 
etc.  He  utters  the  most  com- 
mon place  truisms  as  if  they 
were  original  thoughts  just 
coined  in  his  own  mental  mint, 
and  stamped  with  his  great 
"  I "  trade  mark.  He  will 
gravely  tell  you  how  you  should  conduct  your 
business,  and  he  does  it  with  such  an  air  of  conscious 
superiority  that  you  can  not  decide  whether  to  laugh 
at  him  or  kick  him  off  the  premises.  The  egotist  is  al- 
ways a  critic,  and  to  "  damn  with  faint  praise  "  is  his 
forte.  "  Yes,  yes,"  he  will  say,  "  very  well  done,  indeed; 
very  good  for  a  man  of  his  calibre,"  and  then  he  strokes 
his  upper  lip  and  looks  up  at  the  ceiling  in  a  way  that 
says,  as  plainly  as  words  could,  "  Lord  bless  you,  you 
should  see  how  I  could  do  that." 

An  egotist  is  always  selfish,  and  does  a  large  business 
on  a  very  small  capital  by  borrowing,  and  by  exhibiting 
as  cases  of  genuine  goods,  what  are  only  empty  boxes. 


136  SKETCHES  FROM 

Some  first  class  egotists  only  use  two  fingers  when 
shaking  hands,  but  the  most  exasperating  characteristic 
is  that,  in  conversation — if  a  one-sided  interview  can  be 
called  conversation — a  bore  of  this  class  pays  no  heed 
to  what  you  say,  and  when  he  pauses  and  you,  thinking 
he  has  finished,  start  in  on  your  innings,  he  interrupts 
you  by  resuming  at  the  word  he  left  off.  You  may  con- 
tinue and  raise  your  voice,  but  that  does  not  stop  him. 
When  he  does  give  you  a  chance  to  reply,  you  can  see 
that  he  is  not  paying  attention  to  what  you  have  been 
saying.  While  you  were  talking,  he  was  thinking  of 
what  he  would  say  when  you  got  through. 

A  wonderful  thing  about  the  egotist  is  that  he  never 
realizes  that  he  is  an  egotist,  and  he  will  talk  to  you 
about  the  evidences  of  egotism  in  a  mutual  friend,  and 
express  regret  that  an  otherwise  good  man  should  be 
so  afflicted. 

Some  egotists  are  amusing,  some  exasperating,  and 
some  should  be  spread  out  at  the  bottom  of  a  deep  hole 
and  have  railroad  iron  piled  on  top  of  them. 

If  all  the  egotists  in  the  world  were  shot  at,  very  few 
of  us  would  escape  being  at  least  winged  by  a  spent 
ball. 

— HH><2^ — 

A     FOILED     BOOK     AGENT. 


A  YOUNG  man  with  a  large  book  under  his  arm  and  a 
seven-by-nine  smile  on  his  mug  stuck  his  head  into  the 
ticket  window  at  the  Union  depot,  and  asked  the  clerk 
what  the  fare  was  to  San  Antonio. 

^'  Ten  dollars  and  fifteen  cents,"  replied  the  ticket 
slinger. 

"  I  am  pining  to  leave  Austin,  but  I  lack  ten  dollars 
of  the  ticket  money.     However,  that  shan't  part  us.  I'll 


''TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  137 

make  a  partial  cash  payment  of  fifteen  cents  and  take 
the  rest  out  in  trade." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  taking  it  out  in  trade?" 

"  I  am  a  book  agent,  and  if  you  will  let  me  have  the 
ticket,  I  won't  try  to  sell  you  a  book.  I  won't  say  book 
to  you  once.  This  is  the  most  liberal  and  advantage- 
ous offer  ever  made  to  the  public,  and  you  ought  to  take 
advantage  of  it.  I  have  been  known  to  talk  a  sane  man 
§0  completely  out  of  his  senses  in  fifteen  minutes  that 
he  wasn't  even  fit  to  send  to  the  legislature  afterward." 

"What  book  have  you  got?"  asked  the  ticket  agent. 

A  beaming  smile  came  over  the  book  agent's  face,  and 
in  a  sing  song  voice  he  began: 

"  I  am  offering  in  seventeen  volumes  Dr.  Whiffletree's 
Observations  in  Palestine,  a  book  that  should  be  in  every 
family,  a  book  that  comprises  the  views  of  the  intelli- 
gent doctor  on  what  he  saw  in  the  Holy  Land,  with 
numerous  speculations  and  theories  on  what  he  did  not 
see,  altogether  forming  a  complete  library  of  deep  re- 
search, pure  theology  and  chaste  imagery.  I  am  now 
offering  this  invaluable  encyclopedia  for  the  unpre- 
cedented low  price  of  two  dollars  a  volume,  which  is 
really  giving  it  away  for  nothing " 

After  the  book  agent  had  kept  this  up  for  about  ten 
minutes,  he  began  to  grow  discouraged,  for,  instead  of 
showing  signs  of  weakening,  the  ticket  agent,  with  an 
ecstatic  smile  on  his  face,  begged  the  eloquent  man  to 
keep  on. 

The  book  agent  stopped  to  rest  his  jaw,  when  the 
ticket  man  reached  out  his  hand  and  said:  "  Shake,  ole 
fel!  Come  inside  and  take  a  chair,  and  sing  that  all 
over  again.  That  cheers  me  up  like  a  cocktail.  I  used 
to  be  a  book  agent  myself  before  I  reformed  and  went 
into  the  railroad  business,  and  that  is  like  music  to  me. 


138  SKETCHES    EROM 

It  soothes  me  all  over.  It  calls  back  hallowed  memories 
of  the  past,  and  makes  me  want  to  go  out  on  the  road 
again.  I  would  rather  pay  twenty  dollars  than  have 
you  leave  Austin.  You  must  come  around  every  day.  I 
could  listen  to  that  all  day,  and  cry  for  more." 
The  book  agent  shut  his  book  and  said: 
"  Some  infernal  hyena  has  given  me  away,  but  there 
is  another  railroad  that  I  can  get  out  of  this  one-horse 
town  on.  I'll  not  consent  to  travel  on  any  road  that 
don't  employ  gentlemen  who  can  treat  a  cash  customer 
with  common  politeness.  You  can't  capture  my  book 
on  any  terms,  and  if  you  will  come  out  of  your  cage  I'll 
punch  your  head  in  less  time  than  you  can  punch  a 
ticket.*'     And  he  passed  away  like  a  beautiful  dream. 

— «>^<3<<2^ — 


HE    TOOK    IT    ALL    BACK. 

"Do  you  mean  to  call  me  a  liar?"  asked  one  rival 
railroad  man  of  another  railroad  man,  during  a  dispute 
on  business  they  had  on  Austin  Avenue  yesterday. 

"  No,  Colonel,  I  don't  mean  to  call  you  a  liar.  On  the 
contrary,  I  say  you  are  the  only  man  in  town  who  tells 
the  truth  all  the  time,  but  I'm  offering  a  reward  of 
twenty-five  dollars  and  a  chromo  to  any  other  man  who 
will  say  he  believes  me  when  I  say  you  never  lie,"  was 
the  response. 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  you  took  it  back,"  replied  the  other 
party,  as  they  shook. 

Gen.  Rusk,  Republican  candidate  of  Wisconsin,  is 
accused  of  beginning  life  as  a  stage  driver.  Most  peo- 
ple begin  life  by  being  carried  about  and  having  pins 
and  soothing  syrup  stuck  into  them. 


TEXAS    SIFTINGS. 


139 


A     POETIC     GEM. 


In  these  days  of  aestheticism  and  ultra  refinement, 
a  false  standard  of  what  constitutes  true  poetry  has 
been  established,  and  the  grandiloquent  and  turgid 
style  is  all  the  fashion.  The  so-called  poetry  of  to-day 
is  made  up  of  equal  parts  of  high  sounding  words, 
florid  figures,  tortuous  tropes,  and  misty  metaphors. 
Let  any  rhymster  select  a  lofty  theme  that  he  does  not 
understand,  let  him  rave  and  rhyme  on  that  theme  in 
such  a  manner  that  his  readers  will  not  know  whether 
he  is  writing  about  one  of  the  mythological  gods  or 
about  the  death  of  a  mule,  and  he  will  be  ranked  among 
the  poets  as  long  as  rhymed  bathos  will  continue  to 
flow  out  of  him. 

This  vitiated   taste  for  the  gaudy  and   lurid  style  of 


I40  SKETCHES    FROM 

poetry  is  much  to  be  deprecated,  because  it  blinds  its 
admirers  to  the  beauty  of  real  poetry.  It  is  said  to  be 
a  fact  that  traveling  men  who  eat  maple  syrup,  made 
of  glucose  and  molasses,  at  hotels  and  railroad  eating 
houses,  at  length  acquire  a  taste  for  it,  and  actually  use 
it,  as  a  battercake  lubricator,  in  preference  to  the  gen- 
uine juice  of  the  maple.  So  it  is  in  the  matter  of  a 
taste  for  poetry,  that  when  the  reading  and  study  of  the 
aesthetic  school  has  progressed  a  certain  length,  the  ap- 
preciation of  the  beauties  of  genuine  poetry  is  gone  for- 
ever, and  there  is  little  hope  of  reform.  The  infatua- 
tion of  its  devotees  for  what  is  artificial  cannot  be  shaken 
off. 

Before  it  is  everlastingly  too  late  we  want  to  reason 
with  some  of  the  erring  ones  who  admire  the  glucose 
kind  of  poetry  like  this: 

"  Oh,  sweet  is  the  whang  of  the  wanglewane, 
And  the  snore  of  the  snark  in  the  twilight  pale, 

As  the  krail  crawl  up  the  window  pane — 
(Love  me,  love,  in  the  grewsome  gale.) 

Gone  is  the  wanglewane,  weird  and  wold, 

Down  to  the  gate  of  the  nether  land, 
Where  the  horn-toads  glide,  and  the  musty  mold 

Eats  the  lily  in  my' lost  love's  hand." 

We  want  to  appeal  to  their  reason,  and  by  presenting 
an  example  of  true  classic  poetry,  and  by  pointing  out 
its  simplicity  and  beauty,  convince  them  that  they 
have  been  following  mere  bubbles  while  pearls  lay  neg- 
lected all  around  them. 

It  is  also  our  pleasing  duty  in  this  connection  to  res- 
cue from  obscurity  a  poetic  gem,  the  inimitable  produc- 
tion of  an  anonymous  genius,  who  uses  words  that  all 


''TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  141 

can  understand.  It  is  no  grand  epic,  no  sentimental 
idyl,  no  heroic  verse,  but  merely  a  terse  recital  of  a  com- 
mon incident  in  ordinary  life. 

The  bard  has  chosen  the  narrative  style  as  that  most 
suited  to  his  theme.  In  the  opening  line  he  introduces 
the  principal  character  in  the  poem: 

"There  was  an  old  woman  who  lived  in  a  shoe." 

He  does  not  waste  time  and  words  invoking  the 
muse,  but,  with  a  boldness  that  is  as  refreshing  and  or- 
iginal as  it  is  startling,  dashes  right  into  his  subject. 
He  does  not  strive  to  heighten  the  interest  in  his  narra- 
tive by  selecting,  as  a  subject,  one  of  the  legendary  he- 
roes of  antiquity  or  a  heroine  of  romance,  but  in  terse 
and  perspicuous  language  he  affirms  that  the  central 
figure  in  the  poem  is  an  "old  woman,"  and  there  is  no 
circumlocution  in  his  statement  as  to  the  humble  and 
quaint  shelter  in  which  she  was  domiciled — "She  lived 
in  a  shoe."  There  is  no  unnecessary  verbiage  in  the 
line  quoted.  It  reads  like  a  prepaid  telegram,  yet  its 
euphonism  is  heightened  and  its  elegance  intensified  by 
its  brevity. 

The  fastidious  critic  may  see  no  beauty  in  an  ancient 
female,  and  will  doubtless  cavil  at  the  selection  of  such 
a  commonplace  heroine,  but  the  impartial  student  will 
realize  that  genius  can  ennoble  the  commonest  and 
most  uninteresting  personage,  and  throw  a  halo  of  ro- 
mance around  even  an  old  woman. 

In  the  second  line  the  poet  opens  up  to  us  along  vis- 
ta of  possibilities  and  probabilities.  He  outlines,  or 
rather  hints,  at  some  of  the  cares  of  life  that  have  fal- 
len to  the  lot  of  this  heroine  when  he  tells  us  that 

"She  had  so  many  children  she  didn't  know  what  to 
do." 


142  SKETCHES    EROM 

True  art  in  poetry  is  to  leave  to  the  imagination  of 
the  reader  the  filling  up  of  the  picture,  to  let  him  sur- 
mise the  little  details  incident  to  the  plot,  but  not  nec- 
essary to  be  expressed  to  make  the  narrative  under- 
stood. A  bungling  tyro  would  have  told  us  the  ages 
of  the  children,  and  would  have  discussed  their  pe- 
culiar idiosyncrasies  of  character.  He  would  probably 
have  introduced  the  father  of  the  children,  a  character 
that  would  really  detract  from,  rather  than  add  interest 
to,  the  pathetic  narrative.  Our  poet,  with  keen  appre- 
ciation of  literary  art,  does  none  of  these  things,  but 
when  he  has  prepared  our  minds  by  the  lofty  sublimity 
of  the  first  line,  he  appeals  to  our  sympathies  in  the 
second,  where  he  shows  how  this  poor  but  proud  wom- 
an was  harassed  with  doubt  as  to  "what  to  do."  We 
say  she  was  proud,  because  the  poet,  with  subtle  inge- 
nuity, indicated  that  she  was  both  proud  and  independ- 
ent, when  he  made  the  simple  statement  that  she  had 
taken  up  her  residence  in  a  shoe.  She  evidently  pre- 
ferred independence,  in  the  contracted  and  comfortless 
confines  of  an  old  brogan,  to  dependence  in  the  gilded 
halls  on  the  poor  farm. 

In  the  next  line  the  character  of  this  true  woman  and 
noble  mother  begins  to  develop: 

"  She  gave  them  some  broth  without  any  bread." 

Here  the  natural  instincts  of  the  mother  are  shown 
forth  in  this  act  of  supplying  her  children  with  nourish- 
ment. She,  as  we  were  told,  did  not  know  what  to  do, 
yet,  even  under  these  circumstances  she  was  equal  to 
the  occasion,  and  the  grand  maternal  care  of  the  wom- 
an is  feelingly  portrayed  in  the  evidences  of  love  (and 
the  broth)  that  she  gave  her  offspring.  The  broth  was 
without  any  bread.     We  are  left  in  a  state  of  delicious 


"  TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  143 

• 

uncertainty  as  to  whether  it  was  Scotch  broth,  chicken 
broth,  or  beef  broth;  but  that  is  an  unimportant  matter. 
There  is,  however,  no  question  as  to  the  bread;  there 
was  no  bread.  The  superficial  reader  might  suppose 
that  the  fact  was  mentioned  to  show  the  poverty  of  the 
woman,  and  to  demonstrate  that  she  was  destitute  of 
the  staff  of  life.  That  was  not  the  intention  of  the  poet. 
Through  this  wise  woman's  act,  and  in  these  seemingly 
commonplace  words,  is  taught  a  grand  hygienic  lesson. 

At  the  hour  when  the  broth  was  placed  before  the 
children,  as  the  concluding  Imes  of  this  sublime  poem 
evidences,  it  was  night,  it  was  the  time  when  the  active 
body  and  mind  seek  needed  repose,  and  when  it  would 
have  been  injurious  to  the  digestive  organs  of  children 
to  have  loaded  their  stomachs  with  bread,  while  such 
an  ill-advised  course  would  have,  possibly,  caused  night- 
mare. The  thoughtless  may  sneer  at  the  heroine's  com- 
mon surroundings,  and  jest  about  the  plebeian  character 
of  her  humble  abode,  but  none  dare  say  that  she  was 
not  in  the  possession  of  a  level  head;  and  when  we  come 
to  the  concluding  lines  of  this  immortal  story  of  a  wom- 
an's suffering,  a  woman's  patience,  and  a  woman's  firm- 
ness, we  see  the  veneration  for  sacred  precepts  that 
prompted  the  last  recorded  act  of  this  Spartan-like 
mother — 

"  She  whipped  them  all  soundly 
And  sent  them  to  bed." 

Doubtless  she  disliked  to  whip  them,  but  she  shrank 
not  from  the  nightly  whipping  that  she  considered  it 
her  duty  to  administer.  This  is  an  overpowering  evidence 
of  the  firmness  of  her  character.  She  not  only  felt  that 
sparing  the  rod  would  spoil  the  child,  but  that  in  the 
case  of  children  a  properly  administered  castigation  is 
conducive  to  sleep. 


144  SKETCHES    FROM 

We  trust  that  by  calling  attention  to  the  grandeur 
and  simplicity  of  this  great  poem — grand  and  simple 
not  only  in  sentiment,  but  in  construction — we  have  done 
something  toward  reviving  a  taste  for  true  poetry. 


-^Oo^ — 


A    FAIR    PROPOSITION. 


A  man  was  brought  up  before  an  Austin  justice  of 
the  peace,  charged  with  trying  to  pass  a  lead  counterfeit 
half  dollar. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  trying  to  palm  off  such  a 
miserable  counterfeit  as  that  on  the  intelligent  people 
of  this  University  city.?" 

The  prisoner  said  he  didn't  mean  anything. 

"  That  will  not  go  down  with  this  court.  You  might 
have  got  a  better  counterfeit  than  that.  How  could 
you  expect  to  deceive  the  public  with  that  sort  of  a 
coin?  If  I  couldn't  get  up  a  better  counterfeit  than  that 
I  would  be  ashamed  of  myself." 

"Well,  judge,"  said  the  counterfeiter,  "I  am  a  busi- 
ness man,  and  if  you  have  any  better  counterfeit  than 
that  half  dollar,  show  me  your  samples,  and  if  the  price 
suits,  I'll  buy  all  of  my  counterfeit  money  from  you.  If 
you  don't  like  that,  I'll  go  in  with  you  on  shares." 

Judicial  indignation,  and  the  committal  followed. 

HE    TOOK. 

"  Do  you  ever  take  anything? "  asked  an  Austin  can- 
didate, leading  a  prominent  citizen  into  a  saloon. 

"  Do  I  ever  take  anything?  Don't  you  remember  I 
have  been  a  member  of  the  Legislature?" 

That  settled  it.     He  took  something. 


TEXAS  SIFTINGSr 


145 


TEXAS     SOLDIERS. 


The  old-fashioned,  brass-mounted  Texas  soldier,  who 
perished  in  the  Alamo,  and  who  but  a  short  time  after- 
wards made  it  so  hot  for  the  Mexicans  at  San  Jacinto 
that  they  wished  they  had  never  been  born,  was  a  differ- 
ent looking  son  of  Mars  from  the  modern  Mardi-Gras 


146  SKETCHES  FROM 

or  Fourth  of  July  soldier.  The  former  was  always 
watching  to  see  a  Mexican  or  an  Indian,  while  the  latter 
is  anxious  to  be  seen  by  the  ladies. 

In  some  respect  the  modern  Texas  soldier  is  better 
off  than  those  who  fought  during  the  Texan  revolution. 
A  modern  Texas  soldier  is  not  expected  to  lay  down  his 
life  in  A.  D.  1835  at  the  Alamo,  as  did  the  heroes  of  that 
place.  He  is  not  supposed  to  go  back  forty-six  years 
and  overwork  himself  "removing"  Mexicans  on  the 
plains  of  San  Jacinto.  If  the  modern  Texas  soldier 
needs  any  exercise  he  goes  out  collecting  bills,  as  he  is 
usually  a  clerk  as  well  as  a  son  of  Mars.  The  modern 
soldier  does  not  have  to  march  for  days  and  days  in  the 
hot  sun  without  any  umbrella,  and  without  coming  to 
any  place  where  he  can  get  beer  on  ice.  If  the  modern 
soldier  wants  to  go  to  San  Antonio,  all  he  has  to  do  is 
get  on  the  cars,  tell  the  conductor  he  represents 
Texas  Sif tings,  and  he  will  arrive  there  safe  and  sound, 
and  fresh  as  a  daisy.  He  gets  in  the  'bus,  is  driven  to 
a  hotel,  where  he  can  have  a  nice  time.  If  a  Mexican 
gets  after  the  modern  soldier  in  San  Antonio,  the  latter 
calls  for  a  policeman,  and  has  Mr.  Mex.  locked  up. 
That's  not  the  way  it  was  when  Texas  soldiers  made 
excursions  to  San  Antonio  about  1836.  They  had  to 
walk  or  ride  the  whole  way.  When  they  got  there  they 
were  cordially  received  with  grape  shot,  etc.  If  they 
wanted  to  get  into  a  house,  they  had  to  dig  their  way 
in  with  a  crow-bar,  and  kill  about  forty  Mexicans  before 
they  would  let  them  alone.  That  is  where  the  modern 
Texas  soldier  has  a  soft  thing  of  it. 

In  some  other  respects  the  soldier  of  to-day  has  to 
suffer.  Every  Mardi  Gras  there  is  trouble  at  Galveston, 
and  he  has  to  go  there  to  see  about  it.  Not  long  since 
there  was  a  break-down  on  the  train,  and  for  several 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  147 

hours  a  whole  company  of  warriors  had  to  fight  off  the 
attacks  of  savage  mosquitoes.  The  enemy  never  let  up, 
but  there  was  not  even  a  whisper  of  surrender,  although 
every  soldier  lost  more  or  less  blood.  On  another  oc- 
casion a  company  of  modern  soldiers  captured  a  break- 
fast at  an  eating  house  at  a  railroad  station.  Every 
soldier  received  three  or  four  biscuits  in  his  stomach, 
and  suffered  untold  agonies  from  indigestion,  so  really 
the  modern  soldier  has  to  suffer  as  much  as  did  the  old- 
fashioned  brass  mounted  Texans. 

By  examining  the  illustration  at  the  head  of  this  ar- 
ticle the  intelligent  reader  will  be  able  to  tell  which  is 
which.  The  soldier  with  the  bouquet  in  the  muzzle  of 
his  gun  is  the  new-fashioned  soldier,  while  the  one  with 
a  Bowie  knife  in  his  boot,  and  a  slouch  hat,  is  the  sort 
who  used  to  die  at  the  Alamo,  offer  up  Mexicans  at 
San  Jacinto,  and  draw  black  beans  as  cheerfully  as  if 
they  were  engaged  in  celebrating  Mardi  Gras,  or  destroy- 
ing lunch  on  the  Fourth  of  July. 


A    CONSIDERATE    MOTHER. 

A  little  colored  girl  applied  at  the  house  of  a  prom- 
inent citizen  of  Austin  for  a  position  to  wash  dishes, 
etc. 

"  Where  does  your  mother  live? "  asked  the  lady  of  the 
house. 

"  She  libs  out  on  Robinson  Hill." 

"  Have  you  got  any  father?" 

*'  Yes,  ma'am,  but  he  has  gone  out  into  de  country  to 
pick  cotton,  but  my  mudder  tole  me  if  I  was  a  good  girl, 
and  behaved  myself,  she  would  get  me  a  step-fodder 
until  de  cotton  pickin'  season  was  over." 


148 


SKETCHES  FROM 


THE     GLORIOUSLY    DRUNK    MAN. 


There  are  a 
variety  of  styles 
and  patterns  of 
drunk  men,  all 
of  them  more  or 
less  absurd  and 
disagree  able. 
There  is  the  glo- 
rious, the  stupid, 
the  pugnacious, 
the  confidential, 
the  weeping,  the 
loquacious,  and 
the  morose 
drunk  man,  be- 
sides many  oth- 
er minor  varie- 
ties. In  this 
article  we  shall 
confine  our- 
selves to  the  man 
who  gets  glo- 
riously drunk. 
He  is  the  least  objectionable  of  all  the  men  who  get 
drunk.  He  is  usually  a  man  of  generous  impulses, 
broad  and  liberal  views,  sanguine  temperament,  warm 
hearted  and  sociable.  The  miserly,  mean,  stingy,  or 
small  souled  men  are  seldom  seen  gloriously  drunk. 
Either  because   they  lack  enterprise  or  because  they 


"  TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  149 

dread  the  expense  consequent  on  a  glorious  drunk, 
they  confine  themselves  to  solitary  and  economical  tip- 
pling from  a  bottle  that  they  keep  on  the  upper  shelf 
in  the  closet  at  home.  You  can  never  tell  by  looking 
at  a  man,  when  he  is  sober,  what  kind  of  a  drunk  man 
he  would  develop  into,  if  he  had  the  opportunity  and 
the-  requisite  intoxicants,  but  you  can  be  pretty  sure 
that  the  niggard,  or  the  man  who  changes  a  dime  on 
Sunday  morning  that  he  may  have  a  nickle  to  put  in 
the  poor  box,  never  invests  in  a  glorious  drunk. 

The  man  who  becomes  gloriously  drunk  is  usually 
ripe  between  i  and  3  o'clock  a.  m.,  when,  if  he  is  not 
harvested  by  his  friends  and  a  hackman,  he  is  liable  to 
be  pulled  by  the  police.  He  takes  more  enjoyment  out 
of  a  drunk  than  any  of  the  other  varieties  of  bacchana- 
lian revelers.  His  views  of  life  broaden  out  and  his 
contempt  for  the  details  and  trivial  worries  of  business 
strengthen  as  he  warms  up  under  the  influence  of  suc- 
cessive glasses  of  his  favorite  beverage.  If  clouds  of 
adversity  or  trouble  have  filled  the  horizon  of  his  every- 
day life,  these  clouds  glow  with  rose  tints  or  disappear 
altogether  before  the  deceptive  influence  of  the  golden 
liquid  as  he  sucks  it  through  a  straw,  and  tells  the  bar- 
keeper to  "charge  'em  to  me."  He  "sets  'em  up"  with 
a  munificent  liberality,  not  only  to  his  friends,  but  to 
any  chance  acquaintance,  or  even  strangers,  that  may 
be  in  the  saloon. 

As  he  warms  up  he  is  apt  to  break  forth  into  song. 
His  favorite  selections  are  of  the  "  Drive-dull-care-away" 
and  "  Won't-go-home-till-morning  "  class,  and  he  is  ex- 
tremely partial  to  anything  with  a  Hip,  Hip,  Hurrah! 
chorus  to  it.  When  he  reaches  the  musical  period  of 
his  drunk,  he  usually  has  his  hat  on  one  side  of  his 
head  and  mud  on  his  coat  tail. 


I50  SKETCHES    FROM 

The  man  who  gets  gloriously  drunk  never  does  any- 
thing by  halves.  He  is  sure  to  get  gloriously  sick  next 
morning.  He  is  not  an  habitual  drunkard  (the  latter 
never  gets  glorious),  but  merely  once  in  a  while,  with- 
out premeditation,  he  meets  a  couple  of  friends  whom 
he  has  not  seen  for  some  time,  the  temptation — and  the 
liquor — is  too  strong,  and  the  result,  next  morning,  is  a 
headache,  brandy  and  soda,  and  a  determination  never 
to  do  so  any  more.  His  two  friends  usually  belong  to 
the  royally  drunk  and  the  boisterously  drunk  class. 


1 


WHY     HE     CAME     TO     TEXAS. 


A  GOOD  many  years  ago,  when  Austin  was  a  very 
small  town,  quite  a  number  of  prominent  citizens  went 
out  on  a  hunting  expedition.  One  night  when  they 
were  all  gathered  around  the  camp  fire,  one  of  the  party 
suggested  that  each  man  should  give  the  time  and  rea- 
son for  his  leaving  his  native  State  and  coming  to  Texas, 
whereupon  each  one  in  turn  told  his  experience.  Judge 
Blank  had  killed  a  man  in  self-defense,  and  Arkansaw. 
Gen.  Soandso  had  forged  another  man's  signature  to  a 
check,  while  another  came  to  Texas  on  account  of  his 
having  two  wives.  The  only  man  who  did  not  make 
any  disclosures  was  a  sanctimonious-looking  old  man, 
who,  although  a  professional  gambler,  was  usually  call- 
ed "  Parson." 

"  Well,  Parson,  why  did  you  leave  Kentucky?" 
"  I  don't  care  to  say  anything  about  it.     Besides,  it 
was  only  a  trifle.     None  of  you  would  believe  me  any- 
how." 

"Out  with  it!     Did  you  shoot  somebody?" 

"  No,  gentlemen,  I  did  not.      But  since  you  want  to 


TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr 


151 


know  so  bad,  I'll  tell  you.  I  left  Kentucky  because  I 
did  not  build  a  church." 

Deep  silence  fell  on  the  group.  No  such  excuse  for 
coming  to  Texas  ever  had  been  heard  before.  There 
was  evidently  an  unexplained  mystery  at  the  bottom  of 
it.     The  "  Parson  "  was  called  on  to  furnish  more  light. 

"  Well,  gentlemen,  you  see  a  Methodist  congregation 
raised  $3,000  and  turned  it  over  to  me  to  build  a  church 
— and  I  didn't  build  the  church.     That's  all." 

"DEATH     IN     THE     POT." 


From  time  to  time  we  read  of  the 
dreadful  poisons  contained  in  common 
articles  of  food,  and  we  are  told  of 
danger  and  death  lurking  in  the  most 
unexpected  places,  and  concealed 
under  the  most  innocent  guise.  We 
become  horrified  as  we  realize  how, 
for  years  and  years,  we  have  been 
slowly  but  surely  filling  our  blood 
with  deadly  poisons,  ruining  our  con- 
stitution with  unhealthy  viands,  and 
taking  risks  that  a  graveyard  insur- 
ance company  would  shudder  to  think 
of.  One  paper  tells  us  that  there  is  enough  poison 
contained  in  one  cigar  to  kill  a  dog;  in  the  next  family 
journal  that  we  pick  up,  we  read  that  there  is  more 
prussic  acid  in  an  almond  than  would  extinguish  the 
vital  spark  in  a  mouse,  and  then  comes  a  note  of  warn- 
ing regarding  our  favorite  beverage,  coffee;  we  learn 
that  sufficient  poison  can  be  extracted  from  a  pound  of 


152  SKETCHES    FROM 

coffee  to  poison  two  men  and  a  boy.  As  soon  as  we 
have  revised  our  commissary  department  and  begin  to 
feel  safe  once  more,  we  are  startled  by  statistics  regard- 
ing the  number  killed  annually  by  the  bursting  of  mill- 
stones, or  the  unhealthy  vapors  arising  from  stagnant 
buttermilk. 

About  a  year  ago,  we  had  discarded  everything  that 
we  thought  was  dangerous,  when  we  were  startled  on 
learning  that  the  syrup  of' commerce  was  adulterated 
with  nitric  acid,  and  that  miasma  lurked  in  the  deadly 
folds  of  the  boarding-house  batter-cake.  Figures  were 
given  to  show  that  the  dreadful  batter-cake  habit  was 
spreading,  and  prophecies  were  made  that  it  would 
eventually  ruin  the  constitution  of  its  strongest  devotees, 
and  reduce  the  nation  to  a  vast  hospital  of  flap-jack  in- 
valids; so  the  batter-cake  was  scratched  off  our  list  of 
edible  fruits,  and  next  went  the  fragrant  cod-fish 
ball,  because  it  was  said  to  produce  cold  feet.  Then  we 
learned  that  the  sad-faced  and  cohesive  biscuit  was  a 
synonym  of  indigestion,  and  the  unostentatious  kraut 
but  another  name  for  rheumatism,  so  the  biscuit  and  the 
kraut  had  to  go;  then  we  found  out  that  castor  oil  con- 
tained the  germs  of  ingostatic  molecules,  whatever 
that  is,  and  we  were,  therefore,  forced  to  give  up  the  use 
of  that  hilarious  medicinal  beverage. 

This  thing  went  on  until  we  had  cut  off  everything 
from  our  bill  of  fare  but  cistern  water  and  chewing 
gum,  and  yet  we  found  ourselves  no  stronger  nor 
healthier  than  when  we  were  rapidly  hastening  to  the 
tomb  from  the  effects  of  gorging  ourselves  with  a  heavy 
line  of  assorted  poisons  three  or  four  times  a  day. 
About  this  time,  a  man  came  along  with  a  magic  lan- 
tern and  showed  us  that  every  drop  of  cistern  water 
contained  an  aquarium  of  hideous  marine  monsters  with 


TEXAS  SITTINGS. 


153 


wiggling  tails,  and  a  druggist  told  us  that  the  habit  of 
gum  chewing  was  a  fruitful  source  of  cancer. 

Next  thing  we  did  was  to  swear  off  being  an  infernal 
fool  on  the  diet  question;  and,  now,  we  eat  anything 
and  everything  that  our  teeth  will  masticate,  or  our 
palate  commend,  and  we  can  work  ten  hours  a  day  and 
see  to  read  small  print  without  spectacles. 

— ^-^^K^ — 


-^^^  OMNIPOrfyy;. 


EXAS: 


The  children  cry  for  it! 


154 


SKETCHES  FROM 


1llPiill!illillii  I 

^iHtrlli  iiHii 


The  boys  play  with  it! 


iH^iiw:.^  /'^M    -=:    ufj 


The  young  men  live  by  it. 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS. 


155 


Some  old  ones  die  by  it. 


THE     AWFUL     COAL     BUG, 


An  entomologist  has  discovered  what  he  calls  the  coal 
bug,  or  the  cimex  anthracitus.  We  have  been  reading 
up  on  the  history  and  habits  of  the  interesting  little 
insect,  and  it  is  with  mingled  feelings  that  we  sit  down 
to  record  the  result  of  our  investigations.  Professor 
Rodagash,  of  Stockholm,  says  that  the  insect  may  be 
considered  as  a  descendant  of  the  prehistoric  tree  bug. 
Professor  Otto  Hechelmeyer  says  :  "  It  is  very  notice- 
able that  the  so-called  coal  dust  is  peculiar  on  account 
of  its  round  appearance.     Upon  ex-amination,  with  the 


156  SKETCHES  FROM 

microscope,  it  is  found  that  these  particles  are  covered 
with  millions  of  cimex  anthracitus." 

We  learn,  further,  that  each  one  is  about  the  size 
of  the  head  of  a  needle,  flat  in  appearance,  and  that  they 
are  plentiful  at  the  bottom  of  coal  veins,  from  whence 
they  work  their  way  to  the  top.  The  male  is  of  a  gray 
black  color,  and  has  six  spots  on  his  back.  The  female 
is  broad,  and  has  nine  spots.  When  the  Professor  told 
us  that  the  crackling  sound  we  hear  when  fresh  coal  is 
put  on  the  fire,  "  is  caused  by  the  death  struggles  of 
these  insects,"  our  soul  was  filled  with  gloom  and  re- 
morse as  we  thought  of  the  millions  of  the  descendants 
of  the  prehistoric  tree  bug — the  gentle  cimex  anthra- 
citus, that  have  been  sacrificed  through  our  selfish  de- 
sire to  have  warm  feet.  When  we  thought  of  this  heed- 
less waste  of  life  for  our  comfort  that  we  had  been 
guilty  of,  we  were  bowed  down  with  grief.  When  we 
learned  that  the  cooking  of  a  pan  of  biscuit  was  the  death 
knell  of  a  million  little  cimex  anthracitus  with  six,  or 
mayhap  nine  spots  on  their  backs,  and  that  what  was, 
to  us,  the  grateful  crackling  sound  from  our  thanksgiv- 
ing turkey  as  it  roasted  before  the  fire,  was  the  requi- 
em— the  funeral  dirge — of  perhaps  a  hundred  million 
innocent  microscopic  bugs,  that  had  never  done  us  any 
harm,  we  went  down  into  the  coal  cellar  and  wept  over 
the  few  remaining  cimex  anthracitus  that  were  left  to 
us,  and  we  felt  as  if  we  never  could  burn  anything  again 
but  green  oak  wood;  but  when  we  came  back,  and,  con 
tinning  our  investigations  further,  found  that  Profes- 
sor Oxfeller  calls  the  descendants  of  the  prehistoric 
tree  bug  "Awful  insects,"  and  says: 

"  Servant»girls,  stokers  in  fire  rooms^  and  housewives 
cannot  be  too  careful  when  moving  about  a  coal  pile, 
for  if  one  of   these   minute   creatures  should  get  upon 


TEXAS  SIFTINGSr 


157 


their  clothing  or  flesh,  the  former  would  be  eaten  into 
holes  quicker  than  by  moths.  When  they  become  at- 
tached to  the  skin  of  a  person  they  burrow  in,  and, 
burying  themselves,  multiply  fast,  producing  a  white 
swelling,  which  eventually  results  in  a  softening  of  the 
bones  and  a  horrible  death.  Coal  miners  who  imbibe 
large  quantities  of  whiskey  are  never  attacked  by  these 
insects." 

When  we  read  this  we  wiped  our  tearful  eyes,  took 
something  to  prevent  softening  of  our  bones,  and  wrote 
an  order  for  another  ton  of  cimex  anthracitus. 

— <^^^o<^ — 

THE     COUNTY     FAIR. 


VIEWED    HISTORICALLY    AND    OTHERWISE. 

The  county 
fair  is  one  of  the 
oldest  institu- 
tions of  this 
country.  We 
have  traced  its 
growth  and 
progress  until 
we  have  found 
its  origin  almost 
lost  in  the  mil- 
dewed  past. 
Away  back  i  n 
the  mists  of  an- 
tiquity we  find  records  of  the  first  county  fair  in  the 
United  States.  The  county  fair  did  not  exactly  come 
over  in  the  Mayflower,  but  it  was  perpetuated  by  the 


158  SKETCHES  FROM 

Plymouth  Rock  people.  It  was  projected  by  some  of 
the  Mayflower  passengers  soon  after  their  arrival.  The 
facts  are  as  follows — they  are  historical  facts,  so  we  can- 
not vouch  for  them: 

Some  time  in  Anno  Domini  1760,  a  man,  in  Maryland^ 
named  Sam  Johnson,  had  a  pumpkin  patch.  It  was 
about  two  acres  in  extent,  and  fenced  with  cedar 
pickets.  We  are  particular  about  giving  details,  be- 
cause this  is  history.  Johnson's  neighbor,  a  man  by  the 
name  of  Williams — Dick  Williams — also  had  a  pump- 
kin patch.  There  was  only  one  acre  of  it,  and  it  had  a 
stake  and  rider  fence  around  it.  Dick  owned  a  brindle 
dog,  named  Tyke.  We  cannot  find  that  the  dog  ever 
did  anything  extraordinary,  or  cut  any  figure  in  the 
pumpkin  imbroglio.  We  mention  him,  however,  be- 
cause this  is  history  we  are  writing,  and  history  is  made 
up  of  such  trifles.  Johnson  found  a  very  large  pump- 
kin in  the  Southeast  corner  of  the  patch,  and  immedi- 
ately afterwards,  Williams  discovered  a  still  larger 
pumpkin  in  the  Northwest  corner  of  his  acre  of  pump- 
kins. Each  of  them  determined  to  encourage  his  pump- 
kin to  beat  that  of  the  other,  Williams  took  the  Amer- 
ican Agriculturalist,  while  Johnson  subscribed  to  a 
grange  paper  and  Landreth's  Almanac.  They  read  up 
all  the  authorities  on  pumpkins,  and  then  put  their 
fruit  under  a  course  of  treatment.  Williams  used 
guano  and  phosphates  on  his.  Johnson,  by  sweating, 
blanketing,  and  exercise,  soon  got  his  pumpkin  to  about 
equal  in  size  the  berry  of  his  neighbor  Williams. 
When  the  pumpkins  were  about  ready  to  drop  from  the 
tree,  the  respective  owners  of  each  swore  that  his  was 
the  best.  They  were  about  to  quarrel,  when  Johnson 
proposed  to  refer  the  matter  to  Deacon  Long-Suffering 
Simpson.     The  Deacon  was  unable  to  decide,  and  sug- 


TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  159 


gested  a  committee.  The  committee  failed  to  agree, 
and  called  a  meeting  of  all  the  people  of  the  colony  to 
decide  the  matter,  and  forever  set  at  rest  the  question 
as  to  which  of  the  two  pumpkins  was  the  best,  and  the 
most  calculated  to  promote  and  advance  the  interest  of 
the  young  and  struggling  colony.  The  people  met,  and, 
after  mature  deliberation,  decided  that  Williams'  pump- 
kin was  the  largest  and  most  nutritious,  and  better 
suited  for  all  purposes  for  which  pumpkins  were  intend- 
ed, but  that  Johnson's  pumpkin  was  of  the  short-horned 
variety,  and,  furthermore — which  was  most  important 
— it  was  raised  from  imported  seed,  seed  that  came 
from  England,  from  the  hot-house  of  the  Duke  of  Here- 
ford, Johnson  having  the  pedigree  of  the  seed  in  his 
possession.  So  Johnson  was  declared  the  victor,  and 
had  a  blue  ribbon  nailed  to  the  masthead  of  his  pump- 
kin. This  was  the  origin  of  the  county  fair.  The 
neighbors  of  Johnson  and  Williams  went  to  raising 
pumpkins,  and  their  wives  planted  rags  and  patches 
and  raised  a  crop  of  rag  carpets  and  patchwork  quilts, 
which  they  took  along  w4th  the  pumpkins  next  year  for 
exhibition.  Then  the  man  with  the  headless  rooster 
came  along,  and  the  gubernatorial  candidate  w^as  put 
on  exhibition  and  made  an  agricultural  address;  other 
patent  windmills  were  exhibited,  and,  gradually,  the 
county  fair  grew  and  developed;  but  it  was  not  until 
the  patent  churn  man,  the  blind  foreigner  with  the  hand 
organ,  and  the  fellow  with  the  blue  and  red  balloons 
came  to  the  front,  that  the  county  fair  became  a  per- 
manent institution. 

Fairs  are  instituted  and  carried  on  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  farmers  struggling  with  overgrown  hogs,  calves, 
and  other  farm  products;  also  that  awards  of  merit 
may  be   given  to  all  the  sewing  machine   and   piano 


i6o  SKETCHES    EROM 

makers  in  the  country.  Of  late,  horse-races  have  been 
added  to  the  county  fair  programme.  Of  course,  only 
sinful  men,  who  wear  horse-shoe  scarf  pins,  go  to  see 
the  races.  The  superintendents  of  county  fairs,  desir- 
ous of  catering  to  the  prejudices  and  tastes  of  all  classes, 
have  it  so  arranged  that  all  the  good  respectable  tax- 
payers and  church-members  can  go  over  to  the  cattle 
sheds  and  watch  the  Durham  cows  chew  their  cuds, 
while  the  races  are  going  on.  To  stand  and  look  at  a 
cow  chewing  her  cud  has  always  an  exhilarating  effect 
on  us.  We  like  the  excitement  of  it,  but,  somehow, 
when  we  attend  county  fairs  we  are  invariably  caught 
in  a  crowd,  just  in  front  of  the  race  track  when  the 
races  are  taking  place,  and  cannot  get  out  until  the  race 
is  over.  This  is  very  embarrassing,  and — but  we  are 
getting  away  from  the  historical  aspect  of  the  county 
fair,  and  will,  therefore,  stop. 

°-^<}o<2^ 

THE     UNHAPPY     FARMER. 


There  are  very  few  people,  excepting  perhaps  dead 
people,  or  those  who  have  never  been  born,  who  are 
quite  satisfied  with  their  lot  in  life.  The  merchant  com- 
plains of  overwork  if  he  has  too  much  business,  and  he 
is  far  from  being  perfectly  happy  if  he  has  no  business 
at  all.  The  doctor,  the  lawyer,  in  fact,  almost  every- 
body, grumbles  more  or  less  under  the  most  favorable  or 
unfavorable  circumstances.  We  grumble  from  the  cra- 
dle to  the  grave,  and  there  are  some  people  who  will  not 
be  happy  in  Heaven,  if  they  are  not  allowed  to  grum- 
ble. We  have  read  of  a  sick  boy,  who  grumbled  be- 
cause his  mother  did  not  put  as  big,  or  as  hot  a  mus- 
tard plaster  on  him  as  she  did  on  his  less  deserving 


''TEXAS    SIFTJNGSr  i6i 

brother.  The  professional  patriot  is  always  predicting 
that  the  country  is  rapidly  going  to  the  dogs,  but 
somehow  the  country  never  manages  to  catch  up  with 
the  dog.  But  for  solid,  unremitting  grumbling,  the 
farmer  has  no  equal.  He  begins  early  in  the  spring 
and  he  never  takes  a  vacation.  When  he  comes  to 
town  he  wears  such  a  sad  expression,  that  his  city 
friends  ask  him  if  he  has  come  to  town  for  a  coffin.  He 
replies  that  he  might  as  well  get  one  to  fit  himself,  for 
all  the  indications  are,  that  there  will  be  a  late  frost,  and 
if  there  is,  he  will  starve  to  death,  but  he  does  not  care 
for  any  coffin.  The  crops  the  previous  year  were  too 
poor  to  justify  his  revelling  in  such  luxuries.  It  is 
plain  to  see  that  if  there  is  no  late  frost,  he  will  feel 
that  life  is  but  an  empty  dream.  Sure  enough  the  late 
frost  fails  to  keep  its  appointment.  The  growing  crops 
are  in  a  splendid  condition,  notwithstanding  the  farmer 
seeks  to  discourage  them  by  walking  out  among  the 
cotton  and  corn,  shaking  his  head  and  sighing  heavily. 
When  he  comes  to  town  he  looks  so  ill  that  the  under- 
takers follow  him  up.  When  his  city  friends  ask  him 
if  he  has  the  toothache,  he  shakes  his  head  and  says: 
"  I  might  as  well  have  no  teeth  at  all.  There  will  be 
nothing  for  them  to  bite  this  year.  I  was  afraid  that 
there  would  be  no  late  frost  to  kill  off  the  bugs  and  the 
grubs.  It  is  just  what  the  young  grasshopper  wants. 
When  there  is  no  late  frost  the  season  is  sure  to  be  sick- 
ly.    I  expect  to  mortgage  my  farm  to  buy  quinine." 

And  that  is  the  dirge  he  keeps  on  chanting.  After  a 
while  it  becomes  very  evident  that  there  will  be  plenty 
of  corn  and  cotton.  That  is  more  than  he  can  bear  up 
under.  Once  more  he  lifts  up  his  voice  in  lamentation, 
like  Jeremiah  with  the  cramp  colic.  ''Corn  will  be 
down  to  thirty  cents.     It  won't  pay  to  haul  it  to  mar- 


i62  SKETCHES    FROM 

ket.  I  knew  from  the  start  this  was  going  to  be  a  bad 
year  on  farmers."  When  he  is  asked  how  about  the 
cotton,  he  groans  some  more,  and  says:  **  I  reckon  we 
will  raise  enough  cotton  to  feed  the  worms.  I  hope  we 
won't  make  a  bale  to  the  acre,  because  it  don't  do  us 
any  good.  The  merchants  get  it  all.  We  only  raise 
cotton  for  the  merchants,  and  the  worms.  If  we  can 
only  fill  them  up,  I  reckon  we  ought  to  be  satisfied,  and 
ask  Governor  Roberts  to  order  thanksgiving  serv- 
ices." 

There  are  some  farmers,  of  course,  who  laugh  and 
take  the  weather  as  it  comes,  but  they  do  not  enjoy  life 
as  much  as  those  who  understand  the  business. 

IN    DUPLICATE. 

Gus  De  Smith  came  down  Austin  Avenue  yesterday 
with  his  chin  cut  in  several  places,  so  that  it  looked  as 
if  a  drunken  barber  had  been  practicing  on  it. 

"Merciful  Heavens,  Gus!"  exclaimed  Gilhooly, 
"what  did  you  do  to  the  barber?  You  ought  to  have 
murdered  him.  That  was  the  least  you  could  have 
done." 

"  I  didn't  do  anything  of  the  kind.  After  he  was 
through  shaving,  I  invited  him  across  the  street,  and 
treated  him  to  a  cocktail  and  a  cigar." 

"Well,  you  are  a  fool." 

"  No,  I  ain't  such  a  fool  after  all,"  responded  Gus, 
"for  you  see  I  shave  myself." 

"  Oh,  that's  a  different  thing.  You  are  a  kind  of 
double-barrelled  fool." 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGS: 


i6- 


ANOTHER     BRASS-MOUNTED    OFFER. 


As  we  have  before  hinted  in  this  paper,  the  country 
is  full  of  philanthropists  who  propose  enriching  the 
publishers  of  newspapers  by  offering  them  due  bills  in 
payment  for  advertisements,  these  due  bills  to  be  sent 
back  to  the  advertiser,  accompanied  by  sums  of  money 
ranging  from  $io  to  $50,  in  lieu  of  which  the  advertis- 
er promises  to  send  the  publisher  either  a  Stop-action 
Havana-filler  Sewing  Machine,  a  cord  of  sheet  music, 
a  gallon  of  non-corrosive  extra  dry  Robinson  county 
printer's  ink,  an  automatic  cut-off  double-cylinder  liver 
pad,  or  a  recipe  for  taking  grease  spots  and  iron  mold 
out  of  a  dog.  The  financial  genius  of  the  business  man 
is  shown  in  these  brilliant  offers,  and  his  shrewdness  in 
the  seductive  circular  that  contains  them.     The  strong 


i64  SKETCHES  FROM 

point — to  the  advertiser — in  these  circulars  is,  that  the 
money  the  publisher  sends,  when  he  has  published  the 
advertisement  for  the  time  required,  and  when  he  re- 
turns the  due  bill,  is  more  than  the  actual  cost  of  the 
article  or  articles  that  the  advertiser  agrees  to  send  to 
the  publisher,  the  former,  therefore,  getting  his  adver- 
tisement free  of  cost.  Since  we,  some  time  ago,  published 
our  views  regarding  some  of  the  princely  offers  of  the 
above  described  character  that  we  received,  there  has 
been  a  marked  falling  off  in  the  number  of  gaudy  pro- 
posals we  receive  at  this  office;  still  there  is  occasion- 
ally one  received  that,  with  its  visions  of  wealth  and 
lurid  hints  of  opulence,  takes  the  breath  away  from  our 
business  manager,  and  causes  him  to  refer  it  to  us.  He 
has  just  handed  us  one  which  he  says  is  deserving  of 
editorial  attention. 

We  find  this  to  be  a  very  exceptional  offer,  as  the 
party  making  it  does  not  ask  us  to  pay  anything  for 
the  privilege  of  inserting  his  ad.,  but  actually,  strange 
as  it  may  seem,  offers  to  pay  something  to  have  the  ad- 
vertisement published.  We  will  not  give  the  real  name 
of  the  concern,  as  that  would  be  giving  it  a  free  adver- 
tisement. The  circular  explains  itself,  and  so  does  our 
reply,  which  is  appended: 

"advertising  department. 

"  Office  of  Blank  Man'f  g  Co., 

" ,  January  lo,  1882. 


"Gentlemen: — We  hand  you  proposition  to  insert 
advertisement  of  six  inches  space  (copy  herewith)  in 
your  paper  for  twelve  months,  as  per  contract  enclosed, 
to  be  paid  in  trade  as  named. 

"We  will  give  you  four  boxes  of  a  new  brand  of 
Cigars,  of  good  quality,  fine  color,  agreeable  taste  and 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  165 

flavor,  smoke  freely,  white  ashes,  and  cannot  fail  to 
please  any  editor  or  person  who  may  want  a  good  cigar 
for  private  use. 

"  They  are  neatly  packed  in  boxes  of  50  cigars  each, 
bearing  special  trade-mark  label,  as  per  copy  enclosed, 
and  sell  for  $4.50  per  box,  the  lowest  price  at  which 
they  can  be  purchased. 

''In  lieu  of  cigar  proposition,  we  offer  to  you  one  case 
containing  twelve  quart  bottles  of  O.  F.  C.  Taylor  Old 
1873  Hand-Made  Sour  Mash  Whiskey,  at  $18.00,  our  cash 
price  per  case  for  this  article,  and  two  boxes  of  cigars. 
In  filling  out  your  contract,  please  erase  either  the 
whiskey  or  the  cigars  clause,  so  that  we  may  know 
your  choice  and  which  of  the  goods  to  ship  to  you. 

"  Return  advertising  contract  to  us,  duly  filled  out 
and    signed,   on  receipt    of  which  we    will    send    you 
the  full  matter  on  stereotype  plate  by  mail. 
"  Respectfully  yours, 

"Blank  Manf'g  Co." 


Office  of  Texas  Siftings, 

Austin,  January  16,  1882. 
Blank  Manf'g  Co: — 

Gentlemen: — Your  very  liberal  offer  of  the  loth  inst. 
to  hand. 

It  is  a  very  tempting  proposal,  twelve  quarts  of  whis- 
key! Hand-made  Sour  Mash,  too,  and  Old  1873  at 
that!  What  brilliant  editorials  there  would  be  in 
those  twelve  quarts  of  inspiration,  what  sublirrie  and 
refulgent  locals,  what  radiant  and  glittering  obituary 
notices,  and  what  luminous  and  soul-stirring  dramatic 
criticisms!  and  then  to  think  of  what  a  phosphorescent 
and  lambient  sheen  we  could  throw  over  a  market  re- 
port if  we  only  had  the  encouragement  of  a  single  quart 


i66  SKETCHES  FROM 

of  your  old  sour  mash.  But  alas!  it  cannot  be.  There 
are  insurmountable  obstacles  m  the  way  of  accepting 
your  proposition,  and,  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger, 
we  respectfully  decline  it. 

In  the  first  place,  as  you  will  see  by  referring  to  the 
7th  of  January  edition  of  our  paper,  we  have  "sworn 
off"  for  the  year  1882,  and  therefore  could  have  no  use 
for  your  whiskey.  Why  did  you  make  your  offer  at 
such  an  inopportune  time?  If  you  had  only  waited  un- 
til February,  or  even  the  end  of  the  present  month,  we 

might   have  been  in  a  position  to  ,  but  no,  even 

then  we  couldn't,  because  that  matter-of-fact  business 
manager  of  ours  says  that,  although  we  may  put  what 
we  blank  please  in  the  editorial  columns,  he  won't  put 
a  six  inch  display  in  the  advertising  end  of  the  paper 
for  less  than  several  hundred  dollars  cash,  quarterly  in 
advance.  Now,  although  w^e  feel  that  your  twelve 
quarts  of  sour  mash  w^ould  do  us  several  hundred  dol- 
lars' worth  of  good,  up  here  in  the  editorial  room,  when 
we  are  wrestling  with  a  pun,  or  fatigued  by  the  labor 
of  manufacturing  facts  and  creating  statistics,  yet  we 
must  give  way  to  that  soulless  business  manager,  who 
charges  for  everything  by  the  line  or  inch.  We  pre- 
sume, that  as  soon  as  we  recover  from  our  present 
swearing  off  spell,  we  will  have  to  go  back  to  the  old 
legitimate  way  of  getting  our  sour  mash — by  winking 
at  the  barman  and  getting  him  to  put  it  on  the  slate. 

Although  we  cannot  do  business  with  you  just  now, 
we  commend  the  effort  you  are  making  to  encourage  the 
press  and  to  ameliorate  the  condition  of  the  journalist. 
We  can  fancy  that,  with  the  naked  ear,  we  can  hear  the 
jubilant  howl  of  the  editors  all  over  the  land  who  have 
accepted  your  offer,  and  who,  as  a  consequence,  are  full 
of  Old  1873  Hand-made  Sour  Mash.     We  can  imagine 


TEXAS     SIFTINGSr  167 


that  we  see  their  local  columns  filled  with  sour  mash 
puffs  and  typographical  errors;  and  we  do  not  strain 
our  imagination  when  we  picture  the  enterprising  ed- 
itor taking  one  of  the  cigars  you  recommend  "  for  pri- 
vate use,"  and  stealing  off  privately,  far  from  the  busy 
haunts  of  men,  to  smoke  it  on  the  top  of  some  high 
mountain  on  a  windy  day. 

Respectfully  yours. 

Sweet  &  Knox. 

— •-^<^3«<^ — 
MALARIAL     INTOXICATION. 


In  San  Antonio  and  in  some  other  cities,  it  has  been 
customary,  for  many  years  past,  to  publish  weekly 
mortuary  reports  for  the  purpose  gf  informing  those 
inhabitants  who  are  still  alive,  of  the  names  of  those 
who  have  died,  and  what  particular  disease  they  died 
of.  In  order  to  bring  this  information  within  the  reach 
of  all  who  can  read,  the  Latin  and  Greek  names  of  the 
diseases  are  given.  This  is  an  excellent  idea.  If  a 
member  of  the  family  dies,  it  is  consoling  to  the  sur- 
vivors to  read  in  the  mortuary  report  that  it  was  not 
jaundice,  but  Icterus  acutus  febrilis  apaticus.  Nobody 
could  reasonably  expect  to  survive  all  that.  When  a 
person  reads  that,  he  is  astonished  that  the  patient  did 
not  die  sooner  and  more  frequently.  Again,  it  flatters 
common  folks  to  read  that  some  poor  devil  has  died  of 
a  disease  with  a  name  a  mile  and  a  half  long,  while  in 
the  very  same  mortuary  report  perhaps  some  wealthy 
banker  has  been  called  hence  on  a  disease  of  only  two 
syllables. 

Over  in  San  Antonio,  thanks  to  successive  city  phy- 
sicians, the  people  die  of  icterus  senilis,  of  seven  kinds 


i68  SKETCHES    FROM 


of  tuberculoses;  of  icterus  amenorrhoea,  intestinalis 
pulmonalis,  and  five  other  kinds  of  icterus.  They  can 
also  die,  if  they  want  to,  of  anenisma,  colica  flatuienta, 
biliosa — particularly  when  complicated  with  atrapia 
medullae  spinalis  or  marasmus  infantium,  caused  prob- 
ably by  too  much  vox  populi,  nux  vomica,  e  pluribus 
unum,  etc.,  particularly  etc. 

Of  course  the  people  of  San  Antonio  were  a  little 
confused  at  first,  to  know  what  diseases  they  had  died 
of,  but  at  length  they  tumbled  to  the  racket,  and  have 
educated  themselves  up  to  the  technical  terms.  Nobody 
in  San  Antonio  asks:  "  How  is  your  prickly  heat  com- 
ing on?"  Thanks  to  the  city  physician's  mortuary  re- 
ports, instead  of  asking:  "  How  is  your  prickly  heat  to- 
day?" the  Alamo  citizen  asks:  "  How  is  your  eczema 
solare  coming  on?"  to  which  the  sufferer  *  replies: 
*'  Much  better,  thank  you.  It  was  not  the  regular 
eczema  solare  at  all,  but  only  eczema  impetigion  oides, 
complicated  a  little  with  chloasma  ephelis."  If  the  other 
party  does  not  want  to  give  himself  away,  he  will  not 
ask  if  that  is  the  barber's  itch,  for  it  is  not,  although  it 
is  somewhat  similar,  being  rather  in  the  nature  of  por- 
rigo  lupinosa. 

So  completely  have  the  San  Antonio  people  educated 
themselves  up  to  calling  things  by  their  proper  names 
that  nothing  is  more  common  than  to  hear  even  colored 
people  conversing  somewhat  in  the  following  style:  "  I 
say,  Uncle  Mose,  how's  yer  chile  comin'  on?  I  heered 
yer  was  up  all  night  wid  it,  dat  it  had  de  wussest  kind 
ob  peretonitis  ob  de  mucus  membrane  mixed  up  wid 
vomitus  chronicus,  and  a  misery  in  de  chist."  To  this 
Uncle  Mose  responds:  '''  De  chile  has  done  got  ober  all 
dat,  but  dis  mornin'  hit  was  all  broke  out  wid  epilepsia 
thoracica,  but  I  has  strong  hopes  ob  hits  gettin'  well  ef 


''TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  169 

laryngostenose  don't  sot  in.  Fs  had  a  tech  myself  ob 
de  rheumatismus  paralyticus  runnin'  up  my  left  leg, 
but  I  jess  knocked  de  stiffness  out  ob  hit  wid  angle 
worm  oil." 

These  technical  terms  may  not  be  correct,  but  they 
answer  the  purpose  just  as  well  as  any  others. 

Not  long  since,  in  glancing  over  the  San  Antonio 
papers,  we  were  surprised  to  read  that  somebody,  for 
the  first  time  in  many  years,  had  died  of  an  intelligible 
malady.  It  read  that:  "Mr.  Blank,  aged  -^6,  malarial 
intoxication."  Jess  so.  That's  plain  enough.  Mr. 
Blank,  while  suffering  from  malaria,  tried  to  cure  it 
with  some  of  Sam.  C.  Bennett's  sour  mash  whiskey,  and 
between  the  malaria  and  the  remedy,  the  poor  man  fail- 
ed to  survive.  It  was  a  great  source  of  satisfaction  for 
us  to  know  precisely  what  one  person  in  San  Antonio 
really  did  die  of.  It  was  not  too  much  gastroataxia 
saburralis,  or  even  of  haematernesis,  of  cardia  podo- 
gracia,  or  any  of  those  ordinary  modes  of  shuffling  off 
the  mortal  coil,  but  simply  malarial  intoxication.  Our 
satisfaction  that  people  over  at  San  Antonio  had  returned 
to  the  old-fashioned  diseases  was  of  short  duration,  for 
the  very  next  day  our  eye  was  riveted  in  its  socket  by 
the  following  card  from  Dr.  Menger,  the  city  phy- 
sician, in  the  San  Antonio  Evening  Light: 

San  Antonio,  Jan.  25,  1882= 
Editors  Eve?iing  Light: 

In  regard  to  the  term  "malarial  intoxication,"  as 
certified  in  his  death  certificate,  by  the  attending  phy- 
sician, and  in  my  weekly  mortuary  report,  I  noticed  in 
your  yesterday's  Light  that  this  appears  to  be  a  mistake, 
and  that  it  should  have  been  "  malarial  toxicohoemia." 

Now  allow  me  to  mention  that,  although  I  was  aware 
of  the  mistake  in  the  term  "  intoxication,"  I  still  men- 


170 


SKETCHES    FROM 


tioned  it  in  my  weekly  report  because  I  can  only  make 
out  a  copy  of  the  certificates  of  deaths  issued. 

The  technical  meaning  of  the  term  in  this  case  is  not- 
"  intoxication  "  nor  "  toxicohoemia,  "but "  toxicohaemia," 
from  the  Greek  or  Latin  "  toxikon  " — a  poison,  and 
haema — blood;  therefore,  blood  poisoning. 

Respectfully, 

Dr.  R.  Menger. 

*-©<io<2^ 

A     YANKEE     DESPERADO. 


It  is  very  surpris- 
ing what  a  big  busi- 
ness some  men  can  do 
on  a  credit  basis, 
where  there  is  little 
or  no  capital  invest- 
ed. 

As  any  of  the  old 
inhabitants  of  San 
Antonio  will  remem- 
ber, about  the  year 
185 1,  the  most  influ- 
ential man  in  that 
city  was  an  alleged 
desperado  named  Bob 
Augustine.  Bob  came 
to  San  Antonio  with  a  fearful  record.  He  enjoyed  the 
reputation  of  having  killed  a  dozen  men,  and  was  re- 
spected accordingly.  While  he  was  in  San  Antonio  he 
did  not  reduce  the  census  at  all,  but  that  was  not  his 
fault.  He  had  a  seductive  way  of  drawing  his  18-inch 
Arkansas  tooth-pick,  and  examining  it  critically  with  a 


''TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  171 

sinister  smile,  while  humbly  requesting  the  temporary 
loan  of  $5.  The  people  were  very  kind  to  him.  They 
took  into  consideration  that  he  was  an  influential  stran- 
ger, and  they  humored  his  whims  and  caprices  to  the 
extent  of  their  means.  They  were  anxious  that  he 
should  not  be  unfavorably  impressed  with  the  people, 
or  that  it  should  not  be  said  such  an  influential  stran- 
ger had  been  treated  with  discourtesy.  Bob  did  his 
very  best  to  induce  the  leading  citizens  to  furnish  him 
with  some  incentive  to  squander  their  gore,  but  in  vain. 
If  he  asked  a  rich  merchant  to  execute  the  Highland 
Fling,  rather  than  injure  the  future  prospects  of  the 
place  he  would  do  so,  and  then  insist  on  loaning  Bob 
money  without  exacting  security.  Thus  it  was  that 
Bob  went  about  acquiring  wealth  and  warm  personal 
friends,  but  creating  no  funerals.  There  were  some 
rumors  that  Bob  was  playing  bluff,  but  they  originated 
after  he  had  moved  away. 

It  was  during  the  reign  of  Bob  Augustine,  "  the  long- 
ranged  Roarer  of  Calaveras  Canyon,"  as  he  familiarly 
called  himself,  that  a  young  man,  from  Boston,  named 
John  Winthrop,  came  to  San  Antonio,  presumably  in 
search  of  health,  as  he  brought  very  little  with  him. 
He  was  far  gone  in  consumption,  and  nothing  but  the 
fact  that  he  had  but  a  short  time  to  live,  unless  the  cli- 
mate of  Western  Texas  saved  him,  induced  him  to  come 
to  San  Antonio.  As  everybody  carried  a  pistol,  Win- 
throp did  not  care  to  insult  public  decency  by  going 
unarmed.  Besides,  such  a  course  might  as  seriously 
interfere  with  his  restoration  to  health  as  putting  on  a 
clean  shirt.  His  Puritan  training  caused  him  to  revolt 
at  the  idea  of  carrying  fire-arms,  so  he  resorted  to 
artifice.  He  wore  a  holster  but  instead  of  keeping  a 
pistol  in  it,  he  had  his  cash  funds  stored  away  in  it,  and 


172  SKETCHES  FROM 

nobody  was  the  wiser  for  it.  On  the  contrary,  Win- 
throp  was  looked  up  to  by  the  best  citizens  just  the 
same  as  if  he  was  loaded  down  with  deadly  weapons. 
Of  course  everybody  tried  to  make  the  stranger  from 
Massachusetts  feel  as  comfortable  as  if  he  were  at  home; 
so  he  was  told  all  about  Bob  Augustine,  the  long-ranged 
roarer,  at  least  ten  times  a  day,  and  he  was  advised  not 
to  be  particular  in  asking  security  for  the  debt  in  case 
the  roarer  wanted  to  borrow  a  small,  temporary  loan, 
unless  he,  Winthrop,  did  not  wish  to  regain  his 
health. 

As  might  have  been  expected,  the  long-ranged  roar- 
er called  on  Winthrop  to  collect  his  usual  assessment 
on  strangers.  Winthrop  was  of  the  opinion  that  if  he 
saved  his  life  and  lost  all  his  money  he  would  be  doing 
unusually  well.  The  long-ranged  roarer's  idea  was  to 
chase  the  blue-bellied  Yankee  around  the  room  a  time 
or  so,  collect  $5  or  $10,  and  perhaps  make  some  ear- 
marks, a  la  Whittaker,  so  he  would  know  him  in  a 
crowd  if  he  should  meet  him  again. 

The  long-ranged  roarer  sauntered  into  Winthrop's 
room  at  the  hotel,  but  before  the  desperado  could  open 
his  mouth  or  draw  a  weapon,  the  unfortunate  Yankee 
threw  back  his  coat,  and  with  trembling  fingers  tugged 
at  his  pistol  holster  to  get  at  his  money  to  appease  the 
would-be  assassin.  On  the  other  hand,  as  soon  as  the 
Roarer  saw  Winthrop  trying  to  get  out  his  pistol,  he 
turned  as  pale  as  a  ghost.  The  alleged  desperado's 
knees  knocked  together;  the  cold  sweat  boiled  out  all 
over  him,  and  he  extended  his  hand  and  said,  in  trem- 
bling accents: 

"Don't  draw,  good  Mr.  Yankee!  I  was  only  trying 
to  fool  you.  My  bold  Arkansaw  heart  beats  for  you, 
my  boy.     I  jest  wanted  to  teach  you  a  lesson.     Never 


TEXAS    SIFTINGSr 


173 


let  any  darned  galoot  get  the  drop  on  you.  If  anybody 
insults  you,"  jest  tell  them  that  Bob  Augustine,  the 
Roarer,  is  your  friend." 

Winthrop,  who  was  worse  scared,  if  possible,  than  the 
Roarer,  replied: 

"  Oh,  I'll  give  you  what  you  want,"  and  kept  on  tug- 
ging at  the  holster,  which  came  unbuckled. 

With  a  yell  of  dismay,  the  desperado  passed  out 
through  the  window,  carrying  off  the  sash,  and  ran 
down  Commerce  street,  the  principal  thoroughfare,  with 
the  sash  on  his  neck,  howling:  ''  Police — police!"  closely 
pursued  by  Winthrop,  who  kept  on  tugging  at  his  hol- 
ster, trying  to  get  out  his  money,  he  believing  that  the 
desperado  was  running  to  his  room  to  procure  a  shot- 
gun with  which  to  commit  murder.  All  that  afternoon 
Winthrop  kept  on  hunting  the  Roarer  to  purchase 
peace  on  any  terms,  and  the  Roarer  hid  himself  to  avoid 
the  pistol  of  the  Boston  man.  Next  morning  the  long- 
ranged  Roarer  of  the  Calaveras  Canyon  was  missing, 
while  Winthrop  was  the  lion  of  the  day  for  having  run 
off  the  terror  of  the  Alamo  City. 

Now  for  the  sequel.  Winthrop  afterward  moved  to 
Galveston,  and  now  is  one  of  the  merchant  princes  of 
the  Island  City.  Lately,  as  he  was  coming  down  to  his 
place  of  business,  a  decrepit  old  beggar  on  crutches 
held  out  his  hand.  Col.  Winthrop  thought  he  recog- 
nized the  man,  and  he  asked* 

"  Don't  you  remember  trying  to  borrow  five  dollars 
from  me  in  San  Antonio  about  thirty  years  ago?  Ain't 
you  the  long-ranged  Roarer  of  the  Calaveras  Canyon?" 

The  aged  mendicant  gave  a  look  of  mortal  terror,  and 
tried  to  run  on  his  crutches,  but  his  old  would-be  ben- 
efactor pressed  the  five  dollars  into  his  hand,  and  of 
course  there  was  an  affecting  scene  on  the  sidewalk. 


174  SKETCHES    FROM 


\ 


It  has  been  rumored  that  the  citizens  of  San  Antonio, 
finding  out  that  Bob  Augustine,  the  Roarer,  was  a 
fraud,  hung  him  to  a  China  tree  on  the  military  plaza 
for  contempt  of  court  or  disorderly  conduct. 

It  was  also  rumored  that  Bob  Augustine  made  his 
escape  from  San  Antonio,  reformed,  changed  his  name, 
and  is  now  no  other  than  Mr.  Moody,  the  great  revival- 
ist. All  these  rumors  are  now  definitely  set  at  rest  by 
the  fact  that  the  Roarer  is  now  an  aged  cripple  in  Gal- 
veston, but  in  very  reduced  circumstances. 


EDITORIAL     SERMON. 


DIVIDENDS. 


Mr.  N.  Webster,  the  author  of  that  popular  but 
desultory  volume  that  all  of  us  turn  to  for  information 
of  an  orthographical  or  exegetical  character,  defines  the 
word  dividend  as  follows:  "A  part  or  share;  particu- 
larly the  share  or  profit  of  stock  in  trade  or  other  em- 
ployment, which  belongs  to  each  proprietor  according 
to  his  proportion  of  the  stock  or  capital."  Railroad 
companies,  banks,  mining  companies  and  other  corpor- 
ations pay  dividends — at  least  some  of  them  do.  The 
men  to  whom  the  dividends  are  paid,  carry  gold-headed 
canes,  live  in  three  story  bricks,  dine  at  6  p.  m.,  and  are 
usually  among  the  most  respectable  members  of  society. 
They  are  to  be  found  in  all  parts  of  the  country,  mostly, 
however,  in  cities,  and  besides  drawing  their  dividends, 
many  of  them  attend  to  other  business,  although  it  is  a 
note-worthy  fact  that  in  no  instance  has  any  of  them 
ever  been  found  editing  a  Texas  weekly  paper  or  driv- 
ing a  milk  cart. 

We  who    dine    at    noon,  live    in    one-story  cottages 


*'  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  175 

with  mortgages  on  them,  and  have  wet  blankets  thrown 
over  us  as  we  slowly  elbow  our  way  through  life,  some- 
times envy  the  old  cornucopias  as  we  see  them  go  down 
to  the  bank  to  draw  their  dividends.  We  forget  that 
there  are  dividends  and  dividends,  and  that  the  good 
lexicographer  did  not  cover  the  whole  ground  when  he 
defined  the  word  dividend.  A  poor  man  struggles 
against  poverty,  labors  hard  and  economises  that  he 
may  be  able  to  provide  a  good  education  for  his  son. 
The  son,  benefiting  by  the  advantages  that  his  father's 
self-denial,  love,  and  ambition  provide  for  him,  com- 
pletes his  collegiate  course,  takes  a  place  high  among  his 
fellows,  and  begins  his  upward  and  onward  course  on 
the  ladder  of  fame.  At  every  successive  round  that  he 
reaches,  a  dividend  is  declared,  and  who  will  deny  that 
the  latter  is  the  beneficiary  "  according  to  his  propor- 
tion of  the  stock  or  capital,"  as  Webster  puts  it?  A 
young  man  obtains  a  position  as  assistant  in  a  store  or 
office.  He  gets  a  small  salary  but  he  gives  all  his  energy 
and  attention  to  his  employer's  interest.  He  tells  the 
truth,  and  his  leisure  hours  are  spent  in  study  that  will 
fit  him  for  a  higher  position.  He  does  not  drink,  and 
he  is  as  ignorant  of  the  tactics  of  the  billiard  and  card 
room  as  the  average  railroad-ofhce  clerk  is  of  the  rules 
of  politeness.  He  acquires  reputation  for  sobriety, 
energy,  honesty,  and  industry,  and  when  his  employer 
wants  a  man  to  fill  a  position  where  such  qualities  will 
be  valuable,  this  young  man  is  offered  the  position  with 
the  superior  emoluments  that  belong  to  it — he  draws  a 
dividend.  Morality,  integrity,  and  industry,  the  capital 
invested;  reputation  and  promotion  the  dividend  de- 
clared. 

A  good  man  gives  a  helping  hand  and  kindly  advice 
to  those  whom  adversity,  or  a  ''  weakness  "  of  some  kind, 


176  SKETCHES  FROM 

has  brought  low,  and  he  draws  his  dividend  when  he 
learns  that  his  assistance  and  encouragement  have 
smoothed  the  pathway  and  lightened  the  load  of  his 
suffering  fellow. 

The  charitable  man  gives  to  the  poor  and  the  needy 
of  his  abundance,  and  having  thus  lent  to  the  Lord,  he 
draws  a  compound-interest  dividend  in  the  satisfaction 
he  feels  at  having  done  his  duty,  and  the  pleasure  he 
experiences  when  he  sees  the  recipients  of  his  charity 
fed  and  clothed  and  thus  better  prepared  to  struggle 
with  the  hardships  of  life. 

We  could  write  of  the  dividends  drawn  by  the  lazy 
man,  the  man  of  promise  without  performance,  the  dis- 
sipated man,  and  he  who  wantonly  kicks  a  sleeping  dog, 
but  we  prefer  not  to  elaborate  that  side  of  the  picture. 
For  all  of  us,  if  we  labor  honestly,  earnestly,  and  in- 
dustriously, there  are  dividends  to  be  drawn,  and  if,  in 
this  world,  we  do  our  duty  according  to  our  light,  and 
observe  the  golden  rule,  we  shall,  in  the  land  of  the 
leal,  draw  the  greatest  dividend  of  all  when  we  hear 
the  approving:  "Well  done,  thou  good  and  faithful 
servant." 

HE    WAS    THERE    TOO. 

There  was  quite  a  row  in  the  Blue  Light  Colored 
Tabernacle  night  before  last,  between  Uncle  Mose  and 
Deacon  Gabe  Snodgrass. 

"You  is  de  biggest  black  rascal  in  Austin,"  said 
Deacon  Snodgrass. 

"You  is  a  heap  bigger  one,"  responded  Uncle  Mose, 
placing  his  hand  on  the  ivory  handle  of  his  umbrella. 

"Bredderen,"  said  Parson  Bledsoe,  "you  talks  as  if 
dar  was  nobody  else  present  'ceptin'  yersefs." 


TEXAS  SIFTINGSr 


177 


THB     CHAPPAREL     COCK 


^   d^i 


^-^^I^^S^^N^^-- 


This  elegantly 
shaped  bird,  with 
a  long  tail  and  a 
top-knot,  is  called 
by  the  Americans, 
the  chapparel  cock. 
The  Mexicans  call 
him  el  cap07'al,  or 
the  corporal.  The 
American  name 
chapparel  cock  is 
evidently  the  Mexi- 
can name  caporal 
Americanized.  Why  the  Mexicans  call  this  bird  a  cor- 
poral we  do  not  know,  but  we  can  guess.  Possibly  the 
Mexicans  detect  some  semblance  to  a  corporal  in  the 
top-knot,  but  our  private  opinion  is  that  there  is  an- 
other reason  for  it.  Very  likely  the  Mexican  corporal  is 
in  the  habit  of  getting  away  from  danger  faster  than  the 
rank  and  file,  and  as  this  bird  can  run  faster  than  any- 
thing else  that  has  legs,  the  Mexicans,  to  poke  fun  at 
the  bird,  promoted  him  to  the  rank  of  corporal.  This, 
however,  is  a  mere  surmise. 

The  chapparel  cock  is  such  a  fast  bird,  that  he 
makes  better  time  standing  still  than  is  made  by  most 
railroad  trains  in  Texas.  He  runs  like  a  Bourbon 
Democrat  in  the  blue-grass  region  of  Kentucky,  but  he 
cannot  fly  worth  a  cent.  There  is  really  no  occasion 
for  his  running  so  fast  in  order  to  make  a  living,  as  his 


178  SKETCHES  EROM 

diet  consists  exclusively  of  bugs  and  insects  that  crawl 
on  the  ground.  The  chapparel  cock  is  not  a  shy  bird. 
He  stands  around  and  looks  at  you  very  much  as  if  he 
wanted  to  be  invited  to  take  something.  The  chapparel 
cock  is  not  only  a  handsome  bird,  but  he  is  very  useful. 
He  seems  to  have  been  created  for  the  special  purpose 
of  preventing  centipedes  from  being  too  numerous.  He 
patronizes  all  kinds  of  bugs,  but  the  centipede  gets  most 
of  his  custom.  As  soon  as  a  chapparel  cock  sees  a  lone- 
some centipede,  he  takes  up  with  him,  or  to  be  more 
correct,  takes  him  up.  A  peculiar  feature  of  the  per- 
formance is  that  he  does  not  kill  the  centipede  at  once, 
but  picks  him  up  in  his  bill,  and  runs  about  with  him. 
Why  the  chapparel  cock  goes  through  this  performance, 
we  do  not  know.  He  is  not  a  communicative  bird.  We 
can  only  surmise.  It  may  be  that  he  carries  the  centi- 
pede about  in  that  way  in  order  to  amuse  himself.  Our 
own  impression  is  that  he  runs  about  to  get  up  an  ap- 
petite. He  has  too  much  sense  to  eat  the  centipede 
alive,  so,  after  he  is  tired  furnishing  the  insect  with 
transportation,  he  takes  him  up  by  the  head,  and  passes 
him  sideways  through  his  bill,  very  much  as  a  shirt 
collar  is  passed  through  a  patent  clothes  wringer.  After 
this  process  is  completed,  the  insect  has  no  objections 
to  make  to  being  swallowed,  and  the  sagacious  bird 
gobbles  him  endways. 


The  newspapers  that  are  always  boasting  of  having 
the  largest  circulation  of  any  paper  published  in  Texas, 
but  are  careful  never  to  give  any  figures,  remind  one  of 
the  poor,  but  proud  old  lady,  who  beat  a  rag  with  the 
back  of  a  hatchet  every  morning,  in  order  to  make  the 
neighbors  believe  she  had  beefsteak  for  breakfast. 


TEXAS     SIFTINGSr 


179 


THE     WEEPING     DRUNK     MAN. 


Unlike  the  gloriously 
drunk  man,  whose  pecu- 
1  i  a  r  characteristics  we 
described  in  another 
sketch,  the  subject  of  this 
article  seems  to  take  no 
pleasure  out  of  his  drunk. 
He  never  makes  a  night 
of  it,  and  he  is  not  in  the 
habit  of  rushing  around 
with  his  hat  on  the  back 
of  his  head,  slapping  his 
friends  on  the  back  and 
asking  them  to  come 
along  and  take  some- 
thing. He  wears  his  hat 
drawn  down  over  his  eyes, 
and  often  drinks  by  him- 
self. A  joyless  gloom 
pervades  the  atmosphere  of  the  saloon  that  he  frequents. 
He  usually  takes  his  beverage  straight,  and  he  is  quite 
partial  to  cheese.  He  never  mixes  his  drinks.  The 
barkeeper  does  not  need  to  ask  him  what  he  will  take, 
for  he  always  drinks  out  of  the  same  bottle,  and  sighs 
as  he  wipes  his  chin  on  his  sleeve  and  puts  a  piece  of 
fly-blown  lemon  peel  in  his  mouth.  His  cheerless, 
lugubrious  countenance  would  look  out  of  place  any- 
where except  in  the  cave  of  Trophonius  or  in  a  Green- 
back camp  the  day  after  the  election.     The   more  he 


i8o  SKETCHES    EROM 

drinks  the  more  dejected  he  becomes.  If  you  meet  him 
when  he  has  taken,  say,  his  fifth  glass,  he  will  take  you 
by  the  hand,  and  in  a  voice  husky  with  emotion,  and 
old  hand-made  sour  mash,  he  will  tell  you  that  he  is 
sorry  that  you  should  see  him  in  this  condition;  he  in- 
timates that  he  always  considered  you  the  best  friend 
he  had,  and  that  he  knows  that  he  is  doing  wrong 
in  acting  as  he  does.  Then  he  weeps.  When,  with  the 
hope  of  making  him  take  a  more  cheerful  view  of  things, 
you  suggest  that  he  take  something  with  you,  he  shakes 
his  head  in  a  despondent  way  and  mutters  something 
about  wishing  he  was  dead,  but  he  reaches  out  for  the 
bottle  and  takes  a  drink  all  the  same.  He  dries  his 
eyes  and  tells  you  of  his  poor  wife  who  died  several 
years  ago,  what  a  good  woman  she  was,  how  happy 
they  were  together  (they  use  to  lead  a  cat  and  dog  life, 
the  neighbors  say),  and  what  a  poor,  lonely  wretch  he 
has  been  since  she  was  taken  from  him.  At  this  point 
he  would  give  vent  to  his  feelings  in  sobs  and  tears,  if 
his  hiccough  and  the  cheese  on  the  lunch  counter  did 
not  engage  his  attention.  The  weeping  drunk  man  is  a 
bilious  and  dyspeptic  nuisance.  There  is  no  pleasant 
feature  about  him. 

When  he  is  sober  he  may  be  a  very  pleasant  acquaint- 
ance, but  under  the  influence  of  stimulants  he  becomes 
a  solemn  and  dejected  ass,  whining  about  the  good  times 
that  have  been,  complaining  and  grieving  about  the 
present  and  prophesying  dire  calamity  in  the  future. 
You  may  do  all  you  can  to  cheer  him  up,  but  it  does 
no  good;  when  you  are  gone  he  will  stagger  around  into 
the  alley  and  sit  down  on  a  barrel  and  weep  until  he 
feels  that  it  is  time  to  take  another  drink. 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS: 


MULCAHY'S     COW 


Boycotting 
still  prevails  in 
Ireland,  and 
abounds  in  hu- 
morous inci- 
dents. Not 
long  since,  Mr. 
Mulcahy,  who 
lives  in  a  trou- 
b  1  e  d  district, 
and  who  is  an 
enthusiastic 
land  leaguer 
himself,  had  an 
unpleasant  ex- 
perience. The 
outlines  of  the 
story,  which  is 
a  true  one,  and  too  good  to  be  lost,  are  published  in 
an  English  paper.  Mr.  Mulcahy  owned  a  valuable  cow, 
to  which  he  was  very  much  attached,  as  he  derived 
considerable  profit  from  the  sale  of  her  milk.  Unfortu- 
nately the  animal  became  bilious,  or  afflicted  with  some 
other  internal  disorder,  and  Mulcahy  was  very  much 
distressed  in  mind,  body  and  estate,  for  the  cow  refused 
to  let  down  the  lacteal  fluid  with  her  accustomed  reg- 
ularity, and  there  was  no  telling  how  long  the  dead- 
lock was  going  to  last.  Mulcahy  was  reliably  informed 
that  all  she  needed  to  bring  her  to  a  healthy  condition 


i82  SKETCHES  EROM 

once  more  was  a  pint  of  castor  oil  administered  as  a 
tonic.  The  only  hitch  in  the  proceedings  was  caused 
by  the  fact  that  all  the  castor  oil  in  the  neighborhood 
was  in  possession  of  one  Smith,  a  druggist,  who,  having 
given  offence  to  the  land  league,  had  been  boycotted, 
consequently  Mulcahy  and  his  cow  were  cut  off  from 
their  regular  rations  of  castor  oil.  Mulcahy  loved  old 
Ireland  dearly,  and  was  ready  to  be  offered  up  on  the 
altar  of  his  country  several  times  a  day,  but  what  did 
all  that  amount  to  compared  with  the  milk  his  cow  re- 
fused to  contribute  to  the  sacred  cause.?  He  finally 
came  to  the  conclusion  to  go  by  night,  like  Nicodemus, 
to  the  boycotted  drug  store  without  consulting  with 
the  land  league.  The  night  was  dark  and  dreary. 
Mulcahy  reached  the  drug  store  unperceived.  The 
boycotted  druggist  was  glad  to  see  the  only  customer 
who  had  patronized  him  for  weeks,  and  poured  out  his 
thanks  and  the  castor  oil,  and,  with  the  latter  in  a  pint 
bottle,  Mulcahy,  the  traitor  to  Ireland,  slipped  out  by 
the  back  gate  and  made  for  home.  As  luck  would  have 
it,  who  should  be  coming  up  the  road  but  Messrs. 
O'Rourk,  Donovan,  Murphy,  Mulligan,  O'Rafferty, 
O'Neil,  O'Malley,  Duffy,  and  a  lot  more  of  the  boys, 
most  of  them  with  an  O  in  front  of  their  names  big 
enough  to  drive  a  cart  through,  and  each  with  a  shille- 
lah  in  his  hand.  They  had  no  idea  that  treason  lurked 
in  their  midst.  Mulcahy  had,  however,  taken  a  glass 
of  the  "  crayture "  with  the  boycotted  druggist,  and 
when  his  friends  smelled  his  breath  they  were  so  car- 
ried away  with  enthusiasm  for  the  independence  of 
their  country  that  they  took  improper  liberties  with  his 
person  in  their  wild  search  for  the  bottle.  When  they 
found  it  their  joy  knew  no  bounds,  and  without  com- 
paring it  with  Mulcahy's  breath  to  see  if  it  agreed  with 


"  TEXAS     SIFTINGSr  183 

the  sample,  they  proceeded  to  appropriate  the  contents, 
the  campaign  plan  being  that  O'Rafferty,  who  had  dis- 
covered it,  should  make  the  opening  speech.  As  for 
Mulcahy,  he  was  sicker  than  ever  his  cow  dared  be. 

'*  Here,"  said  O'Rafferty,  raising  aloft  the  bottle, 
"  here  is  health  and  prosperity  to  the  Oirish  republic 
and  bad  luck  to  her  inimies!  " 

As  he  was  thirsty,  and  the  rest  of  the  patriots  were 
waiting  impatiently  for  their  turn,  he  put  the  bottle  to 
his  mouth,  intending  to  get  all  that  was  coming  to 
him,  if  not  more — and  he  got  it. 

"I'm  pizened!  It's  casthor  oil!"  he  spluttered.  The 
others  smelled  the  bottle,  and  knew  at  once  that  it  was 
not  the  bottle  that  flavored  Mulcahy's  breath.  They 
remembered  Mulcahy's  cow,  and  that  nobody  but  the 
boycotted  druggist  had  castor  oil.  There  was  circum- 
stantial evidence  enough  to  satisfy  them  that  Mulcahy 
had  violated  his  oath,  and  had  been  trading  with  a  boy- 
cotted man.  Usually,  this  means  death.  All  levity 
ceased.  Mulcahy  was  sternly  asked  to  explain  why  he 
had  violated  his  oath.  He  pleaded  his  case  ably.  In  the 
most  pathetic  language  he  portrayed  the  fate  of  his 
family  if  he  should  lose  his  cow.  He  indignantly  de- 
nied that  he  was  a  traitor  to  Ireland.  He  was  ready  to 
meet  death  on  the  scaffold,  or  on  the  field  of  battle  in 
defence  of  his  country.  His  judges  were  inexorable. 
He  had  violated  his  oath,  and  must  take  the  conse- 
quences. He  was  given  time  to  pray,  which  he  did  with 
a  fervency  that  would  have  melted  a  heart  of  stone.    As 

soon  as  he  said  he  was  ready,  he  was  seized and  the 

pint  of  castor  oil  poured  down  his  throat,  excepting,  of 
course,  as  much  as  O'Rafferty  had  already  got  away 
with.  Mulcahy  was  then  set  at  liberty,  but  he  was  not 
in  a  condition  to  enjoy  it  very  much.      If  he  has  occa- 


i84  SKETCHES    FROM 

sion  to  go  to  that  drug  store  again,  he  will  probably 
select  some  other  kind  of  tonic  than  castor  oil. 


WRITING    UNDER     DIFFICULTIES. 


Certain  matters  referred  to  in  an  editorial,  headed 
"Some  Editorial  Duties,"  that  we  have  just  read,  sug- 
gest that  we  outline  to  our  readers  the  circumstances 
under  which  we  usually  write  our  articles.  The  follow- 
ing will  give  some  idea  of  how  we  strive  to  do  our  duty,- 
and  what  difficulties  we  have  to  contend  with  from  day 
to  day: 

When  we  come  down  to  the  office  in  the  morning  we 
find  several  printers,  hungry  for  copy.  We  ask  them 
to  please  entertain  themselves  for  a  few  moments  by 
correcting  proof,  and  promise  them  copy  directly. 
Then  we  get  a  pencil  and  paper  and  begin  dashing  off 
— in  search  of  a  subject.  Did  the  gentle  reader  ever 
try  to  capture  a  subject  to  write  on,  or  try  to  write  on 
it  after  he  had  caught  it,  while  half  a  dozen  printers  in 
the  next  room  were  cussing  him  and  threatening  to 
strike  if  he  didn't  hand  in  some  copy?  If  he  didn't  he 
has  missed  one  of  the  most  world-without-end-everlast- 
ingly  exasperating  jobs  ever  poor  frail,  finite  man  was 
called  on  to  tackle. 

We  select  a  subject  and  have  just  begun  to  write 
an  editorial  entitled  "  An  Analysis  of  the  Sophistry  of 
the  Nothingness  of  Life,"  when  we  are  interrupted  by 
the  entrance  of  a  person  who  wants  to  know  if  we  were 
striking  at  him  in  that  article  in  our  last  issue  in  which 
we  condemned  the  inhuman  conduct  of  "a  certain  man 
in  the  Fifth  ward."  We  try  to  pass  it  off  as  a  joke  by 
asking  him  what  inhuman  conduct  he  has  been  guilty 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  185 

of,  but  this  only  exasperates  him,  and  in  self-defence 
we  are  forced  to  intimidate  him.  We  proceed  to  do 
this  with  the  only  deadly  weapon  we  ever  carry,  one  of 
those  long,  heavy  editorials  cut  from  the  Dallas  Herald, 
with  which  we  beat  him  over  the  head  until  he  becomes 
insensible.  Then  the  office  boy,  whose  duty  it  is  to  at- 
tend to  such  details  of  business,  drags  him  out.  This 
warms  us  up  and  leaves  us  in  a  splendid  condition  for 
writing  mirthful  paragraphs  and  facetious  editorials,  so 
we  are  about  to  start  again  on  our  Analysis  article  when 
a  man  comes  in  to  ask  if  we  exchange  with  the  Ne- 
braska Nemesis,  published  in  the  town  where  he  former- 
ly resided,  and  if  we  could  give  him  the  copy  of  the 
week  before  last.  The  Nemesis  is  one  of  our  most  valu- 
able exchanges,  because  there  is  nothing  in  it  worth 
clipping,  and  it  therefore  brings  a  good  price  as  wrap- 
ping paper,  but  w^e  lie  about  it — on  principle — and  tell 
him  that  we  never  heard  of  the  N'e??iesis.  As  he  leaves 
the  office  he  collides  with  the  man  who  brings  in  a  new 
and  original  joke  that  he  says  never  appeared  in  print 
before — in  fact,  the  incident  happened  under  his  own 
observation  only  a  few  weeks  ago.  He  suggests  that  we 
"  just  fix  it  up  a  little,  you  know,"  and  it  will  be  a  good 
thing  to  put  in  the  paper.  As  he  begins  to  tell  the 
entirely  original  joke,  we  recognize  in  it  the  emaciated 
remains  of  what  was  a  robust  and  jovial  young  joke 
when  it  was  brought  to  this  country  by  the  Puritan 
Fathers  in  the  Mayflower.  It  shows  traces  of  having 
traveled  much  since,  although  it  has  been  half  soled, 
patched  in  several  places,  and  otherwise  repaired.  We 
get  rid  of  him  by  referring  him  to  the  Commissioner  of 
History  and  Statistics,  who  is  making  a  collection  of  all 
such  relics  of  the  old  red  sandstone  period.  Then  we 
take  the  scissors  and  slash  out  the  first  few  items  we 


1 86  SKETCHES  FROM 

find  in  the  nearest  exchange  to  our  hand — County- 
Treasurer  Absconded — Another  Stage  Robbery — Gould 
has  Purchased  Two  more  Railroads — Oscar  Wilde's 
Legs — that  will  choke  off  the  printers  till  we  get  a  start 
on  our  Analysis  of  the  Sophistry,  etc.  But  before  we 
have  got  two  lines  written  we  find  it  is  lunch  time. 
During  the  remainder  of  the  evening  we  succeed  in  writ- 
ing two  more  lines,  in  intervals  between  the  visits  of 
our  friends.  First  comes  the  old  veteran,  who  used  to 
be  on  intimate  terms  with  Sam  Houston,  and  who 
slaughtered  Mexicans  all  through  the  fall  of  '35  and 
spring  of  'T)^^  and  failed  to  die  when  he  should  have  died 
at  San  Jacinto,  and  who  wishes  to  publish  some  rem- 
iniscences of  the  old  days  of  the  early  settlements  in 
Texas;  then  the  man  who  has  some  business  that  calls 
him  to  Chicago,  and  who  would  be  willing  to  furnish 
us  with  descriptive  letters  during  his  trip,  if  we  would 
furnish  him  passes  over  the  railroads.  After  him,  the 
imbecile  who  suggests  that  we  give  the  P.  O.  Dept.  "a 
rasping,"  (he  calls  it)  because  the  mails  do  not  arrive 
on  time.  Next  the  drummer  who  says  he  has  really  no 
business  with  us,  but  "  merely  called  in  to  see  the  two 
d —  fools  who  write  all  that  stuff  in  Sif tings"  When  we 
get  through  with  all  these  it  is  time  to  go  home,  so  the 
gentle  reader  will  readily  see  that  our  time,  during  the 
day,  is  pretty  well  taken  up,  and  so  it  goes  on  from 
day  to  day.  We  do  all  our  editorial  work  at  night, 
while  the  baby  in  the  next  room  is  howling  under  the 
influence  of  the  colic. 


TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  187 


THE     TEXAS     CLIMATE. 


The  climate  of  Texas  is  an  unabridged  one,  and 
we  would  be  doing  it  an  injustice  if  we  did  not  devote 
some  space  to  it  in  this  paper. 

When  the  pious  old  Spanish  missionaries  first  came 
to  Western  Texas  to  convert  the  Indians,  and  every- 
thing else  they  could  lay  their  hands  on,  to  their  own 
use,  they  noticed  the  extreme  balminess  of  the  atmos- 
phere, the  gorgeous  Italian  sunsets,  and  the  superior 
quality  of  the  climate.  They  were  surprised  that  the 
Creator  would  waste  so  much  good  climate  on  the 
wicked  heathen.  Back  where  they  came  from,  where 
all  the  folks  were  good  Catholics  and  observed  211  holy 
days  in  the  year,  they  couldn't  raise  as  much  climate 
per  annum  as  they  could  harvest  in  Western  Texas  in 
one  short  week. 

In  the  early  days  of  the  Republic  of  Texas,  and  even 
after  annexation,  many  of  the  white  men  who  came  to 
Western  Texas  from  all  parts  of  the  United  States  had 
strong  sanitary  reasons  for  preferring  a  change  of 
climate.  To  be  more  explicit,  the  most  of  the  invalids 
had  been  threatened  with  throat  disease.  So  sudden 
and  dangerous  is  this  disease  that  the  slightest  delay  in 
moving  to  a  new  and  milder  climate  is  apt  to  be  fatal, 
the  sufferer  dying  of  dislocation  of  the  spinal  vertebra 
at  the  end  of  a  few  minutes  and  a  rope.  A  great  many 
men,  as  soon  as  they  heard  of  Western  Texas,  left  their 
homes  in  x\rkansas,  Indiana,  and  other  States — left  im- 
mediately, between  two  days — the  necessity  for  their 
departure  being  so  urgent  that  they  were  obliged  to 


1 88  SKETCHES    FROM 

borrow  the  horses  they  rode  to  Texas  on.  All  of  these 
invalids  recovered  on  reaching  Austin.  In  fact,  they 
began  to  feel  better,  and  considered  themselves  out  of 
danger  as  soon  as  they  crossed  the  Brazos  river.  Some 
of  those  who  would  not  have  lived  twenty-four  hours 
longer  if  they  had  not  left  their  old  homes  reached  a 
green  old  age  in  Western  Texas,  and,  by  carefully  avoid- 
ing the  causes  that  led  to  their  former  troubles,  were 
never  again  in  any  danger  of  the  bronchial  affection  al- 
ready referred  to.  As  soon  as  it  was  discovered  that 
the  climate  of  Western  Texas  was  favorably  disposed 
towards  invalids,  a  large  number  of  that  class  of  un- 
fortunates came  to  Austin.  Many  well  authenticated 
cases  of  recoveries  are  recorded.  Men  have  been  known 
to  come  to  Austin  far  gone  in  consumption,  and  so  far 
recover  as  to  be  able  to  run  for  office  within  a  year,  and 
to  be  defeated  by  a  large  and  respectable  majority,  all 
owing  to  the  atmosphere  and  the  popularity  of  the 
other  candidate. 

There  is  very  little  winter  in  Western  Texas.  But 
for  the  Northers  Austin  would  have  almost  a  tropical 
climate,  as  it  is  situated  on  the  same  parallel  of  latitude 
as  Cairo,  in  Egypt,  where  they  have  tropics  all  the 
year  around.  As  it  is,  there  is  seldom  any  frost,  al- 
though it  is  not  an  unusual  thing  for  lumps  of  ice  sev- 
eral inches  thick  to  be  found — in  tumblers,  by  those 
who  go  to  market  in  the  early  morning.  Occasionally 
New  Year's  calls  are  made  in  white  linen  suits  and  an 
intoxicated  condition.  Spring  begins  seriously  in  Feb- 
ruary. The  forest  trees  put  on  their  beautiful  garments 
of  green,  and  the  fruit  trees  come  out  in  bloom.  Prai- 
rie flowers  and  freckles  come  out  in  this  month,  and 
the  rural  editor  begins  to  file  away  spring  poetry.  In 
February  stove  pipes  are  laid  away  in  the  wood-shed, 


"  TEXAS     SIFTINGSr  189 

and  the  syrup  of  squills  and  kough  kure  man  puts  a 
coat  of  illuminated  texts  on  the  garden  fence.  Seed- 
ticks  are  not  pulled  until  April,  but  after  the  middle  ^f 
March  there  is  no  danger  of  the  mosquito  crop  being 
frozen.  Early  in  March  the  doctors  oil  their  stomach- 
pumps,  for  the  green  mulberry  ripens  about  that  time, 
and  has  to  be  removed  from  the  schoolboy. 

Toward  the  middle  of  April  the  early  peach  appears, 
and  all  nature — and  the  druggist — smiles,  ushering  in 
the  long  and  lingering  summer  time  when  the  ice 
cream  festivals  of  the  church  of  the  Holy  Embarrass- 
ment rageth  from  one  end  of  fair  and  sunny  Texas  to 
the  other.  Such  is  a  short  synopsis  of  the  varying 
features  of  the  Texas  climate. 


SUNDAY     REFLECTIONS  .—WORK. 


Work  is  what  men  are  paid  for  doing.  Some  kinds 
of  work  are  paid  for  by  the  yard,  some  by  the  day  and 
some  by  the  job.  Railroad  contractors,  for  instance, 
are  paid  by  the  yard,  street  car  drivers  by  the  day,  and 
portrait  painters  by  the  job.  Legislators  are  paid  both 
by  the  day  and  by  the  job.  When  a  certain  thing  is 
done — an  act  performed  for  money — it  is  called  work. 
When  the  same  thing  is  done  merely  to  pass  time  it  is 
called  pleasure.  A  man  will  go  prowling  around  all 
day  through  marshes  and  bogs  in  search  of  snipe,  and 
come  home  at  night,  worn  and  tired,  with  eight  or  ten 
poor  little  birds,  the  market  price  of  which  is  about  25 
cents  for  the  lot,  and  he  will  say  that  he  had  a  glorious 
day's  sport.  That  is  pleasure.  If  that  same  man  was 
paid  good  wages  to  pursue  and  harass  snipe  every  day 
in  the  year  it  would  be  work,  and  he  would  think  this 


190 


SKETCHES    FROM 


a  weary  world,  and  wish  he  were  dead.  Some  people 
get  an  immense  amount  of  so-called  pleasure  out  of 
the  flowing  bowl.  But  take  one  of  these  people  and 
pay  him  fifteen  dollars  a  week  to  disorganize  his 
internal  machinery  with  adulterated  alcohol  and  drug- 
ged malt  liquors;  have  it  in  the  contract  that  he 
must  take  enough  to  make  him  sick  at  the  stom- 
ach once  every  twenty-four  hours,  aiid  make  him  sleep 
on  hard  benches  and  attend  to  his  duties  till  1,1  or  12 
o'clock  every  night.  He  will  call  that  work  and  won't 
like  it,  while  under  the  name  of  pleasure  he  would  glad- 
ly give  it  his  undivided  attention  365  days  in  the  year. 
What  we  are  compelled  to  do  we  call  work,  and  mostly 
every  one  of  us  thinks  that  the  work  he  has  to  do  is 
more  severe  than  what  those  in  other  vocations  have  to 
perform.  The  horny-handed  farmer,  as  he  earns  his 
bread  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow  and  the  jolts  he  gets  as 
he  plows  through  roots  and  snags,  believes  his  the  hard- 
est work  of  all,  and  when  he  thinks  of  the  editor  sitting 
in  his  easy-chair,  dashing  off  eloquent  and  humorous 
editorials  in  his  leisure  moments,  he  gnashes  his  teeth 
and  swears  if  the  idea  is  suggested  to  him  that  an  edi- 
tor ever  knows  anything  of  work.  And  the  editor,  as 
he  toils  over  an  idea  that  he  cannot  find  words  to  ex- 
press, while  the  printer,  in  the  most  aggravating  man- 
ner, stands  around  on  one  leg  impatiently  waiting  for 
copy,  and  muttering  something  about  not  getting  to 
press  in  time  for  the  next  mail — that  editor,  as  he 
scratches  his  head  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  remember 
whether  one  r  is  all  that  belongs  to  the  word  harass, 
wishes  that  he  was  only  a  farmer — one  of  those  simple- 
minded  grangers  who  need  never  be  in  a  hurry  to  get 
to  the  end  of  a  row,  who  is  never  too  busy  to  sit  on  the 
fence  and  discuss  politics,  and  whose  severest  labor  is 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  191 

in  suppressing-  his  robust  appetite  with  fresh-laid  eggs 
and  curds  and  cream.  So  it  is  in  every  department  of 
life;  we  have  all  got  work  to  do,  and  each  of  us  is  in- 
clined to  think  his  lot  the  hardest;  but  the  cultivation 
of  a  cheerful  and  hopeful  spirit  and  the  occasional  re- 
flection that  if.  it  were  twice  as  bad  with  us  it  would  be 
worse,  will  do  much  toward  making  us  contented  and 
better  prepared  to  wrestle  with  the  labors,  cares  and 
duties  that  the  injudicious  act  of  that  old  ancestor  of 
ours  left  us  as  an  heritage. 


ROUGH    ON    WORMS. 

Old  Uncle  Mose  went  into  Levi  Schaumburg's  store, 
on  Austin  avenue,  to  buy  a  silk  handkerchief,  but  was 
almost  paralyzed  on  learning  the  price.  Levi  explained 
that  the  high  price  of  silk  goods  was  caused  by  some 
disease  among  the  silk  worms. 

"  How  much  does  yer  ask  fordis  heah  piece  ob  tape?" 
asked  the  old  man. 

"  Ten  cents,"  was  the  reply. 

"Ten  cents?  Jewhilikins!  so  de  tape  has  riz,  too.  I 
s'pose  de  cause  ob  dat  am  because  dar's  somefin'  de 
matter  wid  de  tape-wums.  Dis  seems  to  be  gwine  ter 
be  a  mighty  tough  yeah  on  wums,  anyhow." 

The  advertisements  and  editorial  comments  got  mixed 
up  last  week  in  the  C?'osby  County  Clarion  and  Fa7'7ners' 
Vindicator^  hence  we  find:  "  Read  the  original  poem  on 
our  inside.  It  is  a  gem  scintillating  with  wit.  It  is  a 
most  excellent  substitute  for  calomel — can  be  used  as 
an  emetic.     Sold  by  all  druggists." 


192 


SKETCHES  EROM 


PETER  B.  LEE.— A  CHARACTER  SKETCH. 


One  day  last 
week,  we  receiv- 
ed a  c  om  p  H- 
mentary  call 
from  Mr.  Peter 
B.  Lee.  He  was 
not  owing  us  a 
call,  but  he 
dropped  i  n  all 
the  same,  as  he 
was  passing 
through  the 
capital  en  route 
for  San  Anto- 
nio, where  there 
was  a  great  de- 
mand for  him, 
so  he  said. 

There  are 
very  few  editors, 
or  printers,  who 
require  any  in- 
formation about 
Peter  B.  Lee. 
He  is  a  nomadic 
printer  who  is  always  on  the  tramp.  That's  the  type 
of  a  man  he  is.  In  his  official  capacity,  as  a  tramp,  he 
has  visited  almost  every  town  and  city  in  the  United 
States  and  the  Territories^  besides  a  large  portion  of  the 


''TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  193 

two  Ganadas.  He  never  stops  in  a  town  longer  than 
a  few  days,  unless  he  becomes  too  much  tangled  up  in 
the  streets  to  find  his  way  out.  As  soon  as  he  has  ac- 
cumulated, by  setting  type,  a  cash  balance  of  a  dollar 
and  a  half,  he  invests  it  at  the  nearest  saloon,  and  then 
meanders  off  in  a  hesitating,  uncertain  kind  of  a  way, 
in  the  direction  of  the  next  town.  He  never  for- 
gets himself  so  far  as  to  become  beastly  drunk, 
neither  does  he  ever  lay  himself  open  to  the  suspicion 
of  being  entirely  sober.  He  is  an  original  character. 
In  traveling  he  disdains  to  ride  on  railroads,  possibly 
because  the  money  he  would  squander  on  the  conduct- 
or can  be  more  advantageously  invested  in  his  favorite 
beverage.  His  baggage  consists  of  a  bundle  of  news- 
papers, donated  by  the  last  newspaper  office  he  visited. 
Mr.  Lee  does  not  carry  these  newspapers  in  order  to 
improve  his  mind  by  reading,  while  resting  from  his 
pedestrian  exercises.  He  swaps  them  off  for  "grub," 
as  he  calls  it.  The  farmer  who  is  craving  for  intellect- 
ual food,  in  the  shape  of  a  late  newspaper,  willingly 
fills  up  the  empty  pedestrian  with  corn  bread  and  but- 
termilk for  a  late  copy  of  the  N.  Y.  Herald. 

As  we  have  already  stated,  he  called  on  us.  After 
entertaining  the  printers  for  a  short  time,  and  asking 
how  far  it  was  to  El  Paso,  and  if  there  was  a  good  show 
for  buttermilk  along  the  route,  he  approached  the  edi- 
torial throne,  and  asked  if  we  had  any  objection  to  his 
encumbering  himself  with  a  few  of  our  exchanges.  We 
had  no  objection.  He  went  to  the  table  where  the  ex- 
changes are  kept,  or  rather  where  they  are  not  kept,  so 
many  of  them  falling  prey  to  the  exchange  fiend,  and 
began  to  pick  out  those  that  were  best  calculated  to  in- 
struct and  elevate  the  farmer.  As  he  pawed  over  the 
papers,  Mr.  Lee  indulged  in  a  very  interesting  and  con- 


194  SKETCHES    EROM 

fidential  conversation  with  himself,  utterly  unconscious 
that  he  was  saying  as  witty  things  as  we  ever  heard. 
He  took  up  a  copy  of  the  Houston  Post^  and  holding  it 
out  at  arm's  length,  said:  "Ah!  that's  a  very  good  pa- 
per to  put  a  man  to  sleep.  I'll  get  a  night's  lodging 
for  that.  That  paper  will  furnish  two  men  with  all  the 
sleep  they  want.  I'll  get  a  good  bed  and  sleep  all 
night,  and  the  farmer  will  try  to  read,  and  he  will  sleep 
all  the  next  day.  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Editor,  that  I  in- 
advertently was  the  cause  of  the  death  of  a  worthy 
man,  near  Fort  Worth,  last  summer? " 

"Did  you  talk  him  to  death?" 

"  No,  sir;  I  did  not.  I  gave  him  a  copy  of  the  Hous- 
ton Post  and  one  of  the  Dallas  Herald  for  my  dinner. 
He  rashly  undertook  to  read  them  both.  He  fell  asleep, 
and  although  every  effort  was  made  by  the  ablest  phy- 
sicians for  three  whole  days,  he  never  could  shake  off 
the  drowsiness;  so  they  buried  him  in  a  shady  dell, 
where  the  flowerets  droop.  No — no,  I  didn't  talk  him 
to  death.  I've  got  no  flow  of  language  at  all,  except 
when  I  am  perfectly  sober;  so  there  is  no  danger  of  my 
talking  anybody  into  the  silent  tomb." 

And  just  here  Mr.  Lee  kept  on  picking  out  the  pa- 
pers he  wanted,  commenting  on  their  mechanical  ap- 
pearance, financial  standing,  or  making  confidential  re- 
marks aloud  to  himself  about  the  personal  appearance 
and  habits  of  the  editors,  with  whom  he  seemed  to  be 
personally  intimate.  He  spoke  in  high  terms  of  the  fine 
typographical  appearance  of  the  Houston  Age,  and  in- 
timated that  he  and  the  editor,  whom  he  called  Dan, 
were  bosom  friends;  that  they  had  often  helped  each 
other  to  pass  the  flowing  bowl,  etc.,  etc.  Mr.  Lee  com- 
plimented the  size  and  make-up  of  the  San  Antonio  Ex' 
press,  for  which  he  claimed  some  credit  to  himself,  as  he 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  195 

had  given  some  practical  hints  and  suggestions  to  Mr. 
Grice,  the  editor,  who  was  also  an  intimate  friend,  and 
to  whom  his,  Lee's,  purse  was  always  open.  Mr.  Lee 
used  some  very  expressive  language  in  reference  to  the 
local  editor  of  the  Exp7'ess^  who  had  intimated  that  he 
was  given  to  too  much  wine,  and  irregular  habits. 

"  And  here  is  the  Washington  OV/zV,"  remarked  our 
visitor;  "  it  is  an  admirably  edited  paper  of  the  Star 
Route  persuasion.  If  I  can't  get  a  '  hand-out  *  for  it, 
I  can  at  least  expatiate  on  its  merits  from  a  journalist- 
ic standpoint.  And  here  is  the  Austin  Wochenblatt.  I 
will  take  that  along,  and  tender  it  to  some  hardy  Ger- 
man settler  just  about  dinner  time.  An  occasional 
plate  of  saur  kraut  is  said  to  produce  a  beneficial  effect 
on  the  kidneys."  So  saying,  he  folded  up  his  ex- 
changes, and  after  asking  permission  to  use  some  twine 
from  a  ball,  he  started  for  the  door.  Just  as  he  reached 
it  a  sudden  thought  struck  him.  Coming  back,  he 
said: 

"  I  wish  to  call  your  attention  to  an  extraordinary 
circumstance." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  That  I  didn't  take  the  ball  of  twine  when  I  had 
such  a  good  chance;  "  and  once  more  pressing  our  ed- 
itorial hand,  he  wafted  himself  out  of  the  door  in  the 
direction  of  El  Paso,  leaving  nothing  behind  to  re- 
mind us  of  his  visit,  except  a  well-defined  smell  of  an 
inferior  article  of  Austin  whiskey. 

»-^<3o<2^ — 

Several  Texans  are  in  jail  at  Leadville.  We  have  al- 
ways observed  that  no  matter  where  Texans  may  be, 
they  move  in  the  very  best  society  the  place  has. 


196 


SKETCHES  FROM 


THE     COLORED     COOK. 


rt  i^rrnrnTiii  ^. 


An'  dis  heah  am  w'at  dey  calls  a  spring 
chicken  desedays," 


There  is  quite  a 
variety  of  colored 
cooks  infesting  the 
kitchens  of  the 
Southern  end  of  the 
United  States  of 
North  America  at 
the  present  day. 
They  vary  in  color 
from  the  somber 
shades  of  a  burned 
stump  in  a  dark 
alley,  at  midnight, 
to  the  mellow  tints 
of  a  ripe  pumpkin 
tinged  with  the  rays 
of  the  rising  sun. 
They  vary  in  other 
respects.  The 
young  one  is  more 
impudent  and  less 


respectful  than  the  old  one.  When  she  comes  in  search 
of  a  ''  place,"  she  is  apt  to  say  that  a  "  culled  wash 
lady  "  told  her  that  the  "  white  woman  what  lived  here 
wanted  to  hire  a  cook;  "  but  they  all  resemble  each  other 
in  one  particular — their  ignorance  of  cookery  is  20*^ 
above  proof,  and  their  unconsciousness  of  their  ignor- 
ance may  safely  be  said  to  register  at  least  145°  Fahren- 
heit in  the  shade. 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  197 

We  have  not  space  to  describe  all  the  varieties  of  the 
colored  cook,  but  will  tell  what  we  know  of  the  com- 
monest type,  that  represented  by  our  artist  at  the  head 
of  this  article — the  culinary  artist,  who  is  fat,  black,  and 
forty  years  of  age  or  thereabout.  She  is  proud  of  hav- 
ing "  b'longed  to  de  ole  jedge  'fo'  de  wah,"  and  she  is 
fond  of  comparing  the  present  with  the  past.  Her  com^ 
parisons  are  not  complimentary  to  the  present,  for  hei 
surroundings  are,  to  her,  as  the  gloomy  ruins  of  social 
and  material  things  standing  out  against  a  brilliant  and 
golden  tinted  back-ground  "  ob  de  gorjusness  ob  de 
good  ole  days." 

With  the  loyalty  of  her  race,  she  is  faithful  to  her  old 
master  and  mistress  to  the  extent  of  calling  on  them  for 
the  loan  of  half  a  dollar  whenever  she  is  financially 
embarrassed. 

She  seldom  stays  at  any  one  place  more  than  three 
months  at  a  time.  When  hired,  she  promises  to  come 
on  Thursday,  the  day  the  old  cook  intends  leaving,  but 
she  does  not  come  until  the  following  Monday  evening, 
when  she  arrives  accompanied  by  a  small  trunk  with 
wall  paper  pasted  over  the  outside  of  it,  and  a  large 
bundle  of  her  "  things  "  tied  up  in  a  patch-work  bed- 
spread. During  the  first  few  days  she  acts  so  that  her 
mistress  absorbs  the  idea  that  the  new  cook  is  a  treas- 
ure. But  her  satisfaction  in,  and  her  admiration  of,  her 
treasure  receives  successive  and  severe  shocks  as  the 
idiosyncrasies  of  the  cook's  character  begin  to  de- 
velop. She  can  cook  a  chicken,  but  all  the  colored 
people  can  do  that.  It  is  a  talent  that  is  hereditary. 
Beyond  that  her  capacity  is  limited.  She  breathes  on 
the  plates  and  polishes  them  on  her  sleeve  before  put- 
ting them  on  the  table.  She  develops  religious  pro- 
clivities which  necessitate  her  attendance  at  church  three 


198  SKETCHES  EROM 

times  on  Sunday,  at  prayer  meetingon  Wednesday,  and 
choir  practice  on  Saturday  night.  She  is  also  a  mem- 
ber of  the  "  Benevolent  Order  of  the  Sisters  of  the  Mys- 
terious Ten  Wise  Virgins,"  the  weekly  meetings  of 
which  require  her  attention  on  Tuesday  night.  Thus 
her  mistress  has  only  three  evenings  in  the  week  on 
which  she  feels  at  liberty  to  entertain  her  friends  at  her 
own  house. 

The  favorite  dissipation  of  the  colored  cook,  besides 
religious  observances,  consists  in  sitting  down  on  the 
kitchen  door-step  to  rest,  and  going  to  sleep  there  while 
the  biscuits  burn  to  a  cinder,  and  the  coffee  boils  over 
and  mixes  with  the  cabbage  and  other  fruits  in  the 
adjacent  skillet.  She  has  days  on  which  she  suffers 
with  "  a  misery  "  in  her  head,  probably  from  too  much 
religious  observance  on  the  previous  evening,  and  on 
these  days  she  takes  a  gloomy  view  of  life,  breaks  dishes, 
forgets  to  put  baking  powder  in  the  batter  cakes,  and 
manufactures  coffee  of  the  kind  that  leaves  successive 
circles  of  an  alluvial  deposit  on  the  inside  of  the  cup. 
It  is  not  well  to  remonstrate  with  her  on  these  occasions. 
If  you  do  she  will  talk  to  herself  confidentially  in  a  low 
tone  of  voice  during  the  next  two  days  about  being 
overworked.  In  the  cotton  picking  season  nothing 
short  of  lessons  on  the  piano,  the  use  of  the  parlor  to 
receive  her  company  in,  and  seven  nights  out  in  the 
week,  will  induce  the  average  colored  cook  to  remain 
at  her  post  of  duty  and  continue  the  destruction  of  ex- 
pensive groceries.  Cotton  picking,  with  banjo  accom- 
paniments, and  the  dance  at  night  in  the  barn,  have  at- 
tractions that  no  pecuniary  offer  will  out-weigh,  and  the 
cotton  field  is  to  the  cook  what  the  fashionable  water- 
ing place  is  to  her  young  mistress. 

When  she   comes  to  hire  she  tells  her  employer  that 


TEXAS    SIFTINGSr 


199 


she  is  not  married.  After  awhile,  when  the  latter 
notices  the  frequent  appearance  of  "  a  cullud  ge'mman  " 
about  the  kitchen  and  the  cook's  boudoir,  and  brings 
her  to  task  for  having  concealed  the  fact  that  she  was 
married,  she  replies:  "  'Fo'  de  Lawd  'm,  we  isn't  mar- 
ried; we  jes  took  up  wid  one  anodder." 

Honesty  is  her  strong  point;  she  can  be  trusted  with 
a  dollar  to  take  to  market  in  the  morning,  and  she  will 
invest  fifty  cents  of  it  in  provisions  and  cheerfully  turn 
over  fifteen  cents  of  change  to  her  employer  on  her  re- 
turn. The  appetite  of  the  colored  cook  is  something 
that  the  columns  of  this  paper  are  too  limited  in  extent 
to  describe. 

— '>-K><^^^K>€'^' — 

ST.     PATRICK'S     DAY. 


</tVl^8  ^iS:^AINT     PATRICK   is   a   saint 

about  whom  very  little  is  known,  and 
that  little  is  very  uncertain.  He  was 
born  of  English  parents  in  France,  on 
the  4th  of  July,  A.  D.  400,  which  may  ac- 
count, in  some  measure,  for  his  having 
been  one  of  the  first  men  of  that  cen- 
tury.  A  few  years  afterwards,  on  New 
Year's  day,  A.  D.  403,  he  was  born  in  Scotland  of  un- 
known parentage.  A  year  or  so  later,  he  saw  the  light 
for  the  first  time  on  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of 
New  Orleans  in  Holland;  that  is,  St.  Patrick  was  born 
in  Holland.  The  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  New  Or- 
leans was  not  born  in  Holland.  Whenever,  in  the  good- 
ness  of  your  heart,  you   undertake    to  give    St.    P.  a 


200  SKETCHES    FROM 

write  up,  you  are  sure  to  get  things  mixed.  The  num- 
ber of  St.  Patrick's  mothers  is  also  involved  in  uncer- 
tainty, but  there  must  have  been  half  a  dozen  of  them, 
at  least,  and  they  were,  doubtless,  all  very  proud  of 
him,  each  one  claiming  he  got  his  good  looks  from  her- 
self. St.  Patrick's  father  is  also  involved  in  more  or 
less  obscurity,  but  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  his 
maiden  name,  before  he  was  made  a  saint,  was  O'Raf- 
ferty.  The  only  absolutely  sure  thing  about  St.  Patrick 
is,  that  he  was  not  born  here  in  Austin,  Texas. 

Very  little  is  positively  known  about  St.  Patrick's 
boyhood,  except  that  it  is  probable  he  had  one  or  two 
boyhoods.  He  seems  to  have  had  everything  in  dupli- 
cate and  triplicate.  The  ancient  archives  of  Paris  show 
that  a  boy  answering  the  description  of  St.  Patrick  was 
arrested  for  disturbing  people  with  a  nigger-shooter  in 
A.  D.  415. 

Historians  are  a  unit  that  he  dislocated  his  ankle  by 
being  bounced  from  the  rear  of  a  bobtail  car,  in  New 
York,  as  early  as  A.  D.  410.  There  is  documentary  evi- 
dence to  show  that  St.  Patrick  manifested  signs  of  piety 
at  a  very  early  age,  as  he  was  given  to  crawling  under 
circus  tents,  tying  tin  cans  to  dogs'  tails,  and  to  staying 
out  late  at  night,  being  somewhat  of  a  convivial  turn 
of  mind,  as  are  his  spiritual  descendants  to  this  day. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  he  landed  in  Ireland 
for  the  first  time  in  the  spring  of  A.  D.  432,  on  the  east 
coast  of  the  island.  As  a  matter  of  history,  he  also 
landed  for  the  first  time  a  few  years  later  on  the  west 
coast,  and  for  about  forty  years  he  kept  on  landing  for 
the  first  time,  and  at  different  places.  Almost  every- 
thing else  about  St.  Patrick,  except  the  facts  already 
given,  is  somewhat  obscure.  He  found  Ireland  inhab- 
ited by  savage  tribes,  some  of  whom  had  come  over 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  201 

from  New  York,  and  he  converted  them.  They  became 
good  Christians,  and  St.  Patrick  never  had  to  call  on 
them  twice  for  their  pew  rent.  St.  Patrick  also  found 
the  island  infested  with  copperheads  and  other  snakes 
of  the  dangerous  kind.  He  converted  them,  too.  We 
do  not  know  into  what  he  converted  them,  but  we  have 
a  theory  that  he  converted  them  into  that  class  of  land 
leaguers  who  shoot  poor  people  for  honestly  paying 
their  rent,  who  mutilate  cows,  and  batter  flocks  of  sheep 
to  death.  What  goes  to  strengthen  this  theory  is  the 
fact  that  there  are  no  bona  fide  snakes  or  reptiles  in  Ire- 
land. 

St.  Patrick  is  supposed  to  have  died  in  A.  D.  493,  but 
where,  nobody  knows.  It  is  also  very  certain  that  no- 
body knows  what  he  died  of,  or  what  doctor  was  called 
in.  As  he  was  nearly  one  hundred  years  old  when  he 
died,  it  could  not  have  been  teething  nor  cholera  in- 
fantum that  carried  him  off.  As  far  as  we  know,  St. 
Patrick  did  not  belong  to  any  fire  company.  He  is 
buried  all  over  Europe.  We  have  never  heard  of  his 
having  left  a  widow,  but  as  there  are  vast  numbers  of 
Sons  of  St.  Patrick,  we  infer  that  he  was  married  fre- 
quently, and  that  one  of  his  wives  must  have  been  a 
widow  with  twenty  or  thirty  children.  St.  Patrick  left 
no  property.     Requiescat  in  pace. 

THE    COMING    SCULPTOR — OR    CONGRESSMAN. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  make  out  of  yourboy.  Bill?" 
asked  one  Austin  parent  of  another. 

"  I  think  Bill  will  be  a  great  sculptor,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Has  he  any  talent  that  way?" 

^'  I  should  say  so.  He  chisels  all  the  other  boys  out 
of  their  marbles." 


202 


SKETCHES  FROM 


THE     CONFIDENTIAL     DRUNK    MAN. 

The  man  who 
gets  confidential 
when  he  becomes 
drunk,  is  one  of  the 
most  tiresome  of 
the  different  var- 
ieties of  men  who 
look  upon  the  rye 
when  it  is  flavored 
with  lemon  peel. 
He  may  be  a  very 
taciturn  man  in  his 
total  abstinence 
moods,  but  when 
he  gets  under  the 
influence  of  a  suc- 
cession of  cocktails 
he  tries  to  tell  all 
he  knows,  and  his  bursts  of  confidence  are  really  pain- 
ful to  his  friends  and  acquaintances.  He  not  only  tells 
all  that  he  knows,  but  much  that  he  does  not  know 
familiarly  enough  to  talk  about  with  certainty.  When 
in  an  inebriated  condition,  he  will  stretch  his  imagina- 
tion until  you  can  hear  it  crack  and  ravel  at  the  edges, 
and  he  will  tell  massive  and  voluminous  lies  about  the 
extent  of  his  business,  the  colossal  influence  he  has 
in  politics,  his  intimacy  with  great  men,  and  such  mat- 
ters. It  is  not  what  he  says,  but  the  manner  in  which 
he   says    it,  that  makes  his  outbursts    of   confidential 


''TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  203 

mendacity  exasperating.  He  makes  a  great  show  of 
taking  you  to  one  side  and  unwinding  ponderous 
falsehoods,  intended,  as  he  says,  especially  for  our  own 
ear.  He  puts  his  hand  on  your  shoulder  and  whispers 
down  the  back  of  your  neck,  while  you  can  smell  his 
hilarious  breath  as  it  tickles  the  bare  place  just  back  of 
your  ear.  Then,  forgetting  that  the  matter  has  been 
communicated  to  you  confidentially,  he  will  tell  the 
same  thing,  in  a  loud  tone  of  voice,  to  the  barkeeper. 
He  breaks  out  in  winks  and  nods,  and  dark  hints  and 
mysterious  allusions  regarding  something  that  (owing 
to  private  information  he  has  received,  and  which  he  is 
not  at  liberty  to  divulge),  he  is  satisfied  will  be  made 
public  and  astonish  the  community  in  a  few  days.  He 
gradually  becomes  incoherent  and  mixes  up  an  account 
of  one  of  his  youthful  adventures  with  something  fie 
read  in  the  last  number  of  the  New  York  Weekly.  It  is 
a  good  time  to  leave  him  then,  and  if  he  cannot  secure 
another  victim  he  will  sit  down  in  a  chair  and  talk  to 
himself  until  he  goes  to  sleep.  The  person  who  drinks 
with  the  rest  of  the  party  will  not  notice  the  peculiar 
atrocities  and  idiotic  proceedings  of  the  confidential  or 
any  other  bacchanalian  reveler.  The  foolishness  and 
absurdity  of  their  actions  are  only  perceptible  to  the 
man  who  does  not  drink  strong  liquors,  "  one  of  whom 
we  are  which." 

— «-^o<^ — 

A     ROUGH     TRANSLATION. 


A  YOUNG  lady  moving  in  the  most  exalted  social  circles 
of  Austin,  after  much  toil  and  practice  at  the  piano, 
learned  to  play  with  considerable  dexerity  a  piece  en- 
titled: "  Picnic  Polka."     It  is  something  after  the  style 


ao4  SKETCHES    FROM 

of  the  celebrated  "  Battle  of  Prague."  The  listener  can 
readily  distinguish  the  roar  of  the  artillery  the  rattle 
of  the  musketry,  the  shouts  of  the  soldiers  and  the 
groans  of  the  dying.  In  the  ''  Picnic  Polka"  the  noise 
of  the  wind  among  the  trees  and  the  joyous  carols  of 
the  birds  are  reproduced,  the  finale  being  a  thunder- 
shower  which  disturbs  the  sylvan  revelers.  It  happens 
that  a  country  cousin  is  in  town  just  now,  and  the 
young  lady  thought  she  would  play  the  piece  to  him 
and  hear  his  comment.  He  is  a  plain,  simple-minded 
youth,  and  although  not  very  bright,  is  very  apprecia- 
tive. She  told  him  what  the  piece  was  and  then  pro- 
ceeded to  give  him  the  "  Picnic  Polka."  The  first  notes 
are  rather  slow  and  hesitating,  the  idea  sought  to  be 
conveyed  being  the  solemn  solitude  of  the  forest,  through 
which  the  gentle  zephyr  (not  heifer)  sighs.  After  she 
got  through  with  this  preface,  she  asked  him  if  he  did 
not  almost  imagine  himself  in  a  lodge  in  some  vast 
wilderness.  He  replied  that  he  thought  all  that  slow- 
ness meant  the  delay  in  getting  off.  Said  he:  "There 
is  always  some  plaguey  cuss  who  over-sleeps  himself  and 
keeps  everybody  else  waiting." 

She  did  not  care  to  discuss  the  point  with  the  ignor- 
ant fellow,  so,  to  conceal  her  emotions,  she  once  more 
let  herself  out  on  the  piano.  The  woods  were  filled 
with  music.  The  mocking  bird  whistled  as  if  his  throat 
would  split,  the  cuckoo  filled  the  sylvan  bowers  with 
his  repeated  cry,  while  ever  and  anon  the  mournful 
cooing  of  the  dove  interrupted  the  matin  song  of  the 
lark. 

"  There,  now,  I  guess  you  know  what  that  sounds 
like?"  she  said,  as  she  paused. 

"  You  mean  that  '  tootle,  tootle,  tootle,  chug,  chug, 
chug?'     You  just  bet  I  understand  that.     Many  is  the 


"  TEXAS     SIFTINGSr  205 

time  at  a  picnic  I've  heard  it  from  the  mouth  of  a  demi- 
john, or  the  bunghole  of  a  beer-keg." 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  hurl  the  piano  stool  at  him, 
but  it  passed  off,  and  once  more  she  went  at  the  piano 
as  if  it  was  the  young  man's  head  and  was  insured  for 
double  its  value.  The  thunder  growled,  the  lightning 
flashed  (from  her  eyes)  and  the  first  heavy  drops  are 
heard  upon  the  leaves.  She  banged  and  mauled 
the  keys  at  a  fearful  rate;  peal  after  peal  of  deafening 
thunder  perturbed  the  atmosphere  and  re-echoed  in  still 
louder  reverberation  until  it  woundup  in  one  appalling 
clap  as  a  grand  finale.  Then,  turning  to  the  awe-struck 
youth,  she  said:  ^'  I  suppose  you  have  heard  something 
like  that  before?" 

"Yes;  that's  what  the  fellow  with  linen  pants  said 
when  he  sat  down  on  the  custard  pie." 

The  audience  found  himself  alone,  but  he  picked  up 
his  hat  and  sauntered  out  into  the  street,  densely  un- 
conscious that  he  had  said  anything  out  of  the  way. 

SIFTINGS. 


YES    SIREE    BOB, 

Col.  Pompernickel,  one  of  the  leading  German  manu- 
facturers of  New  Braunfels,  Texas,  who  was  in  Austin 
not  long  since,  tells  a  story  upon  himself  when,  as  a 
raw  lad,  he  was  making  his  first  efforts  to  master  the 
difficulties  of  the  English  language.  All  foreigners 
agree  that  the  English  is  the  hardest  of  all  languages  to 
acquire;  so  does  the  Colonel. 

He  had  already  learned  the  force  and  signification  of 
''sir,"  and  very  naturally  concluded  that  siree  was  its 


2o6  SKETCHES    FROM 

feminine.  Being  seated  at  a  table  opposite  a  very  polite 
lady,  who  asked  him  if  he  would  partake  of  a  certain 
dish,  he  replied:     "Yessiree." 

The  laughter  which  followed  somewhat  disconcerted 
our  hero,  but  he  turned  to  a  friend  at  his  right  and  in- 
quired what  mistake  he  had  made.  His  friend  informed 
him  that  he  should  have  said:  "Yes  siree  bob."  The 
roar  of  laughter  from  the  audience,  who  now  began  to 
take  an  interest  in  the  young  German,  confused  him 
very  much.  In  the  midst  of  the  confusion  his  left-hand 
neighbor  kindly  whispered  something  in  his  ear  which 
encouraged  him  so  much  that  he  braced  himself  for  a 
third  effort.  Once  more  the  lady  inquired:  "  Will  you 
have  a  biscuit,  sir?"  when  he  answered:  "Yes  siree 
bobtail." 


TABLEAU    IN    AN    AUSTIN    RESTAURANT. 

"  Here's  a  fly  in  my  soup,  waiter." 

"Yes,  sir;  very  sorry,  sir;  but  you  can  throw  away  the 
fly  and  eat  the  soup,  can't  you? " 

"Of  course  I  can;  you  didn't  expect  me  to  throw 
away  the  soup  and  eat  the  fly,  did  you? " 


IT    WAS   NOT    HIS    HEAD. 

Uncle  Mose  went  into  an  Austin  Avenue  drug  store, 
yesterday,  and  asked: 

"What  has  yer  dat's  good  for  a  headache?" 
The  druggist  took  down  a  large  bottle  of  salts  of 
ammonia,  or  some  such  stuff,  and  told  Uncle  Mose  to 
smell.  As  it  was  a  free  thing,  he  drew  in  a  healthy  in- 
spiration, that  took  away  his  breath.  It  was  ten  min- 
utes before  he  could  talk,  and  when  he  did  say  some- 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  207 

thing  it  was  that  he  would  "  bust "  the  druggist's  head 
wide  open  if  he  came  at  him  with  that  bottle  again. 

"  But  how  about  the  headache?"  asked  the  druggist. 

"  How  de  debbel  can  I  tellontil  I  goes  home  and  asks 
de  ole  'ooman.  She  is  de  cullud  pusson  what's  got  de 
misery  in  de  head." 


A  NEW  BRAND  OF  SMOKING  TOBACCO. 

A  rough-looking  customer  from  Onion  creek,  came 
into  a  tobacco  store  on  Austin  Avenue,  and  said  he 
wanted  some  smoking  tobacco. 

"  What  brand  do  you  prefer?"  asked  the  tobacconist. 

"  I  want  a  package  of  Emergency." 

"  Emergency?     I  never  heard  of  any  such  tobacco." 

*' All  I  know,"  said  the  man  from  the  country,  is  that 
Uncle  Bill  had  the  toothache  last  night,  and  smoked  all 
night,  and  I  asked  him  which  was  the  best  kind  of 
tobacco;  and  he  said  no  tobacco  was  equal  to  the  Emer- 
gency. So  I  thought  if  none  of  'em  was  equal  to  Emer- 
gency, that  must  be  the  best  the  market  affords.  If  you 
haven't  got  the  Emergency,  I  reckon  I'll  have  to  try 
some  other  store." 


A     CALCULATION. 

An  old  darkey  who  works  around  town  by  the  day, 
and  who  is  very  proud  of  his  reputation  for  extraordi- 
nary ability  in  ciphering,  called  on  Gilhooly  yesterday 
with  a  view  to  get  a  settlement,  in  cash,  for  work  done 
in  Gilhooly's  garden. 

"  Well,  Uncle  Ben,"  said  the  Major.  "  How  much  do 
I  owe  you?" 

"  Ise  worked  fur  ye  'leben  days   at  a  dollar  a  day, 


2o8  SKETCHES  FROM 

boss,  an'  if  yer  hand  me  a  piece  of  paper  an'  a  pencil, 
I'll  cipher  it  out  fur  yer." 

Uncle  Ben  got  the  paper,  and  pretending  to  figure  on 
it,  he  said:  "'Leben  days  at  a  dollar  a  day.  Lemme 
see,  ought's  a  ought,  cipher's  a  cipher,  figure's  a  figure, 
two  ter  carry,  an'  one  ter  throw  away.  'Leben  dollars, 
by  gosh!      Boss,  yer  owes  me  prezactly  'leben  dollars." 


A    HEROIC    ACT. 

In  no  city  in  the  United  States  was  there  more  in-x 
tense  indignation  at  the  shooting  of  President  Garfield 
than  in  Austin.     There  was  quite  a  crowd  of  the  lead- 
ing and  most  influential  citizens  discussing  the  tragedy, 
when  a  big  bully  spoke  up,  and  said: 

"  For  my  part,  I  am  glad  Garfield  was  shot.  He  ought 
to  have  been  shot  long  ago." 

A  small,  one-armed,  poorly  dressed  man  reached  out 
and  knocked  the  bully  down.  Both  parties  were 
strangers.  There  was  a  roar  of  applause,  as  the  bully 
picked  himself  up  and  slunk  off.  The  crowd  gathered 
around  the  one-armed  man,  who  was  the  hero  of  the 
hour.  Prominent  Democrats  pressed  his  hand,  and  ex- 
pressed their  admiration  of  his  heroism.  He  took  it 
very  modestly,  merely  saying  that  he,  and  his  father  be- 
fore him,  were  Jeffersonian  Democrats;  that  none  of  the 
family  had  ever  voted  the  Republican  ticket;  that  he 
was  poor,  having  lost  all  his  property,  including  negroes, 
and  his  arm,  during  the  war,  and  was  in  feeble  health 
besides,  yet  he  would  knock  down  any  man  who  ex- 
pressed satisfaction  at  the  shooting  of  the  President. 

There  were  murmurs  of  approval.  A  hurried  con- 
sultation. The  one-armed  Confederate  was  invited  up 
to  the  bar,  and  fifteen  dollars,  that    had  been  hastily 


TEXAS    SIFTINGS. 


209 


collected,  was  presented  to  him.  He  refused  to  take 
it.  He  was  insulted,  but  was  finally  induced  to  accept 
it  as  a  temporary  loan. 

Later  in  the  afternoon  one  of  the  gentlemen  who  had 
witnessed  the  scene  in  the  saloon,  met  the  one-armed 
man,  who  was  slightly  inebriated,  and  said: 

"  You  did  just  right  to  knock  that  scoundrel  down. 
He  deserved  all  he  got." 

''  He  thought  he  desherved  more,"  responded  the  one-- 
armed  man;  *'  he  got  half  the  money,  and  wanted  more 
because  I  hit  him  on  the  nose;  but  he  don't  desherve 
any  more,  for  I  had  to  do  all  the  talkin'." 

The  Austin  man,  who  had  contributed  liberally, 
gasped  for  air,  while  the  ex-Confederate  drifted  down 
Austin  Avenue  in  the  direction  of  the  nearest  saloon. 


TOO    MUCH    PROVERB. 

While  the  prisoners  in  the  Austin  jail  were  out  in  the 
yard  a  few  days  ago,  two  of  them  who  were  under  sen- 
tence to  the  Penitentiary,  were  heard  comparing  notes 
about  as  follows: 

"  I  don't  believe  in  proverbs,"  said  prisoner  No.  i; 
"  it  is  believing  in  proverbs  that  brings  me  here." 

"How  so?"  said  No.  2. 

"  Well,  you  see  when  I  was  a  boy,  I  often  seen  folks 
pick  up  pins,  and  when  I  asked  them  why  they  did  it, 
they  said* 

"  '  If  you  see  a  pin  and  let  it  lay, 

You  will  have  bad  luck  all  the  day.' " 

"  Yes,  that's  so.     I've  heard  that  myself." 
"Well,  it  don't  work.     I  have  picked  up  a  pin,  and  I 
have  had  bad  luck  ever  since.     I  was  arrested  the  very 


210  SKETCHES    FROM 

same  day,  and  now  I've  got  to  go  to  the  Penitentiary 
for  three  years." 

"  What  has  that  to  do  with  picking  up  pins?  "  asked 
No.  2. 

"Well,  you  see  the  pin  I  picked  up  was  a  diamond 
pin  worth  $150.  I  believed  in  the  proverb  about  having 
good  luck,  so  I  picked  up  the  pin  in  a  show-case,  but 
they  telephoned  for  the  police  and  here  I  am,"  and  he 
winked  at  the  jailer. 

The  other  prisoner  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then 
he  said: 

"When  I  come  to  think  of  it,  proverbs  are  what  have 
brought  me  to  this  fix." 

"  How  so?"  asked  the  man  who  had  picked  up  the  pin 
for  good  luck. 

"Well,  I  had  heard  about  horseshoes  bringing  good 
luck,  so  I  picked  up  horseshoes.  Horseshoes  were  my 
weakness." 

"  Them  horseshoes  you  went  off  with  were  fastened 
on  to  another  fellow's  horse,  weren't  they?"  queried 
No.  I. 

"Jess  so.  When  I  get  out  I'm  not  going  to  tamper 
with  any  more  proverbs,"  remarked  No.  2. 

"Me,  neither,"  responded  No.  i. 

"  Fall  in,  boys,"  said  the  jailer,  and  they  went  back 
to  their  cosy  retreats  on  the  inside  of  the  jail. 


NONE    OF    HIS   BUSINESS. 

Mose  Schaumburg,  an  Austin  merchant,  having  tried 
in  vain  to  collect  a  bill  of  long  standing  from  a  custom- 
er, became  very  much  exasperated  and  was  about  to  re- 
sort to  summary  measures,  when  a  gentleman  who  was 
near  by  offered  to  act  as  mediator  between  them.    Mose 


'*  TEXAS  SIPTINGsy 


211 


consented  to  this  arrangement.  The  mediator  returned 
after  a  brief  interview,  and  said  to  the  creditor: 

"  You  did  well  not  to  tackle  that  fellow.  I  had  a 
d^ — 1  of  a  time  with  him." 

"What  did  he  do?" 

"  Why,  he  cuffed  my  ears  until  I  couldn't  see,  and 
kicked  me  out  of  the  store." 

"You  cuffed  him  back,  of  course?" 

"  Cuffed  him  back?  "  replied  the  mediator,  with  an  in- 
credulous laugh;  "  what  in  the  mischief  do  your  quar- 
rels concern  me?" 


HALAF  OF    A    TOLLAR. 

Gilhooly  went  into  Mose  Schaum- 
burg's  store,  on  Austin  Avenue,  to 
buy  an  umbrella.  Mose  showed 
him  two  kinds  of  umbrellas,  which 
looked  very  much  alike,  one  of 
which  was  a  dollar  and  the  other 
a  dollar  and  a  half.  Gilhooly  ex- 
amined them  critically,  and 
asked: 

"What  is  the  difference  between 
them?" 


Halaf  of  a  tollar,"  responded  Mose. 


A    WIFE  S    DEVOTION. 

About  3  o^clock  yesterday  afternoon  a  large  crowd  of 
men  and  boys,  near  the  corner  of  Main  Street  and  Aus- 
tin Avenue,  were  treated  to  an  exhibition  of  wifely  de- 
votion, which  could  not  but  affect  the  strongest  heart. 
The  woman  had  found  her  husband  lying  in  a  beastly 
state  of  intoxication  in  an   alley.     Instead  of  being  ex- 


SKETCHES  FROM 


asperated,  she  gently  turned  him  over  to  a  comfortable 
position,  and,  running  her  hand  into  his  vest  pocket, 
she  extracted  a  twenty  dollar  bill,  and  remarked:  "I 
reckon  I've  got  the  dead  wood  on  that  new  bonnet  I've 
been  sufferin'  for."  She  made  a  straight  streak  for  the 
nearest  millinery  shop.  Strong  men  wiped  the  moist- 
ure from  their  eyes  at  the  wife's  heroic  devotion  to  a 
husband  who  had,  by  strong  drink,  brought  himself  so 
low  as  to  neglect  to  provide  his  wife  with  the  common 
necessaries  of  life. 


DIDN  T    KNOW  ANY    NEWS — MAN    SHOT    NEAR    AUSTIN. 

"You  picked  the  pecans  on  Onion  creek,  you  say?" 
said  an  Austin  reporter  yesterday  to  a  young  man  on  a 
wagon  filled  with  pecans. 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  replied,  "  that's  where  they  came  from." 

"Many  up  there!" 

"  Plenty  of  them." 

"  Believe  I'll  try  a  few,"  quizzed  the  reporter,  taking 
a  big  handful  of  the  pecans. 

"  I'll  sell  you  a  whole  peck  for  fifty  cents,"  said  the 
man,  with  swelling  eyes. 

"  Only  want  a  few.     Say,  do  you  know  any  news?" 

"  Not  a  bit,  sir;  everything  is  very  dull  up  our  way." 

"  Don't  you  know  anything?" 

"  Well,  I  believe  I  did  hear  some  news  yesterday." 

"  What  was  it?"  asked  the  reporter,  cracking  a  pecan. 

"There  was  a  man  got  i8  buckshot  in  him  near  where 
I  live?" 

"Who  shot  him?" 

"I  did." 

"What  did  you  shoot  him  for?"  asked  the  reporter 
aghast. 


''TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  213 

"  For  stealing  some  of  my  pecans  out  of  my  wagon," 
said  the  countryman,  reaching  under  the  seat  for  his 
shotgun. 

The  reporter  hastily  replaced  the  pecans  in  the 
wagon,  and  after  calling  the  countryman  "Colonel," 
disappeared  around  the  corner.  That  evening  he  told 
his  employers  that  they  must  insure  his  life  for  $50,000, 
or  he  would  resign. 


GUS    PUTS    HIS    FOOT    IN    IT. 

There  was  an  amateur  theatrical  performance,  a  few 
nights  ago,  in  a  fashionable  mansion  on  Austin  Avenue. 
Gus  De  Smith  was  engaged  to  play  the  ghost,  in  Ham- 
let. 

"Now,  Gus,"  said  the  manager,  "all  in  the  world  you 
have  to  do,  is  to  come  in  and  say:  'I  am  thy  father's 
ghost,'  and  you  must  do  it  in  a  deep,  sonorous  voice." 

Gus  said  he  wanted  some  hard  part  where  he  might 
have  a  chance  to  spread  himself,  but  finally  agreed  to 
do  as  he  was  told. 

When  the  ghost's  turn  came,  he  spoiled  the  tragic 
effect  of  the  whole  performance  by  saying:  "  I  am  thy 
father's  ghost,  and  you  must  do  it  in  a  deep^  sonorous 


"  Where  was  you  when  the  first  shot  was  fired?"  asked 
the  lawyer. 

"  I  was  lying  down  on  the  sofa." 

"Where  was  your  husband?" 

"  He  was  lying  down  on  the  back  gallery." 

"And  your  children — where  were  they?" 

"They  were  lying  down  on  the  bed,  fast  asleep." 

"  Any  other  member  of  your  family  lying  down? " 


214  SKETCHES  FROM 

*'  Well,  if  my  brother-in-law  was  here,  I  expect  he 
would  be  lying  down  in  the  court-house.  He  is  a  law- 
yer, unless  he  has  reformed  recently." 


A    ROUGH    GUESS. 

A  small  boy  darted  into  a  drug  store  on  Austin  Av- 
enue and  said  to  the  clerk: 

"Gimme  some  pizen  to  kill  bed  bugs." 

"  How  much? "  asked  the  man  of  drugs,  thinking 
about  the  price. 

"  How  much?  Well,  I  reckon  if  they  was  all  corralled 
they  would  fill  a  quart  cup." 

We  regret  to  add  that  the  boy  came  out  of  one  of 
the  finest  residences  in  Austin. 


A    COLORED    REPTILE. 

Parson  Bledso  and  Jim  Webster  are  not  on  the  very 
best  of  terms. 

At  a  colored  picnic  given  not  long  since  by  the  Col- 
ored Rising  Sons  of  Liberty,  Jim  Webster  observed  a 
large  bug  crawling  up  the  back  of  Parson  Bledso.  Jim 
knocked  the  bug  off,  remarking:  "  Dar's  a  reptile  climb- 
in'  up  on  yer.  Parson." 

Parson  Bledso  sprang  to  his  feet,  as  if  scared,  and 
said:  "I  didn't  know  yer  was  dar,  Jeems." 


TOO    MUCH    LEARNING. 


"  What  did  you  do  with  that  letter  that  was  on  my 
table? "  asked  Gus  De  Smith,  of  the  colored  boy  who 
cleans  up  his  room. 


"  TEXAS     SIFTINGSr  215 

"  I  tuk  it  to  de  post  office,  sah,  and  put  it  in  de 
hole." 

"  What  did  you  do  that  for?  Did  you  not  see  that 
there  was  no  address  on  the  envelope? " 

"  I  saw  dar  was  no  writin'  on  de  'velope,  but  I  'lowed 
ye  did  dat  ar  on  purposs,  so  I  couldn't  tell  who  yer  was 
a-writin'  to.     Fs  an  edicated  negro,  I  is." 


BETTER    LATE    THAN    NEVER. 

Two  young  men  who  move  in  the  very  best  Austin 
society,  went  on  a  spree  not  long  since.  After  they 
were  pretty  well  under  way  one  of  them  said,  in  an  in- 
ebriated tone  of  voice: 

"  Let's  bid  each  other  good-night.  Bill." 

"  Why,  you  ain't  going  home  already?  It's  right  in 
the  shank  of  the  evening." 

"  Of  coursh  I'm  not  goin'  home  now,  but  after  a  while 
we  won't  know  each  ozzer  from  a  shide  of  sole-leather, 
sho  lets  shay  '  good  night '  right  now  before  it'sh  too 
late." 

They  embraced. 


HARD    TO    TELL. 

"Have  you  read  Governor  Roberts'  book?"  asked 
Gilhooly  of  Gus  De  Smith. 

"Yes,"  responded  Gus;  "there  are  eight  of  us  young 
men  at  our  boarding-house  on  Austin  Avenue,  and  we 
have  all  read  it  carefully." 

"  What  do  you  all  think  of  it? " 

"Well,  you  see,  there  are  eight  chapters  in  the  book, 
and  each  one  of  us  thinks  that  one  chapter  in  particu- 
lar should  have  been  omitted." 


2i6  SKETCHES    FROM 

"Which  chapter?" 

"That's  what  no  two  of  us  agreed  on.     Each  one  of 
us  thought  a  different  chapter  was  the  worst." 


CHOKING     JUDAS    ISCARIOT. 

Every  year,  at  Christmas,  the  San  Antonio  Mexicans 
celebrate  a  kind  of  imitation  of  the  "Passion  Play," 
called  "Pastores."  The  Virgin  Mary,  the  apostles,  in- 
cluding Judas  Iscarlot,  all  appear  and  act  their  parts. 
On  the  last  occasion  of  this  play,  Judas  was  missing. 

"  What  has  become  of  Judas?  "  asked  one  of  the  spec- 
tators, of  St.  Peter,  with  whom  he  was  well  acquaint- 
ed. 

"Judas  be  !"  was  the  reply;  "last  year  we  had 

to  choke  him  to  make  him  give-  back  the  thirty  pieces 
of  silver  that  we  gave  him  in  the  play,  so  this  year  we 
apostles  won't  let  him  stick  his  nose  inside  of  the  cir- 
cus tent." 


REV.    WHANGDOODLE    BAXTER    INSULTED. 

The  Rev.  Whangdoodle  Baxter,  an  Austin  colored 
clergyman,  wished  to  hint  to  Uncle  Nace,  who  is  his 
near  neighbor,  that  a  gift  of  a  cord  of  firewood  would 
be  very  gratefully  accepted.  Uncle  Nace,  by-the-way, 
does  not  like  Whangdoodle  much.  Finally,  says 
Whangdoodle,  insinuatingly:  "Uncle  Nace,  I's  gwine 
ter  be  powerful  hard  up  for  firewood  dis  winter.  Can't 
yer  gimme  a  load?  " 

Uncle  Nace  looked  all  around  as  if  he  was  afraid  of 
being  overheard,  and  then  he  said: 

"  Parson,  is  you  werry  pertickler  whar  de  wood  comes 
from? " 


''TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr  217 

•  Parson  Whangdoodle  supposed  this  to  mean  that 
Uncle  Nace  was  going  to  give  him  some  stolen  wood,  so 
he  replied: 

"  Uncle  Nace,  as  long  as  I  gets  de  wood,  I  don't  keer 
much  whar  it  comes  from." 

"Den,  Parson,  you  don't  keer  whose  wood  you  burns 
up."       • 

"  Hit's  all  de  same  ter  me,  Uncle  Nace.*' 

"Well,  I  am  gwine,"  said  Nace. 

"  Whar  is  yer  gwine.^  " 

"Ter  lock  up  my  wood-shed.'* 


ON    HIS    FEET    AGAIN. 

Col.  Bill   Snort,  editor  of  the  Crosby  County  Clarion 
and  Farmers'    Vindicator^  was  in  Austin  a  few  days  ago, 
and    paid    a   complimentary    visit    to    Texas    Siftijigs. 
There  was  a  merchant  in  his  town  who  had  written  us, 
offering  to  subscribe  for  our  great  weekly  if  we  would 
wait  for  the  cash  till  fall,  so  we  asked  Snort  how  the 
merchant  was  coming  on,  if  he  had  recovered  from  the 
effects  of  his  failure  a  few  months  ago. 
"Well,  he  is  on  his  leet  again." 
"Glad  to  hear  it.     Is  he  making  money?" 
"  Not  much.     When  I  said  he  was  on  his  feet  again, 
I  only  meant  he  had  to  sell  his  horse  and  buggy,  and 
do  all  his  riding  on  foot." 


THE    MODEST    DRUMMER. 

Ike  Schwindelmeyer  is  a  relative  of  old  man 
Schwindelmeyer,  of  the  well-known  Galveston  firm  of 
Schwindelmeyer  &  Co.  Ike  is  a  recent  importation 
from  Germany,  and  travels  for  the  firm.     He  has  a  very 


2i8  SKETCHES    FROM 

great  opinion  of  himself,  and  thinks  that  Schwindel- 
meyer  &  Co.  own  this  world,  and  have  a  builders'  lien 
on  the  next.  Not  long  since  young  Ike  Schwindel- 
meyer  visited  Austin.  On  the  morning  of  his  arrival, 
after  breakfast,  he  started  up  the  Avenue.  It  happen- 
ed that  the  funeral  procession  of  a  prominent  citizen 
was  also  proceeding  up  the  Avenue.  Ike  was  about 
abreast  of  the  hearse,  and  the  gentlemen  on  the  side- 
walks removed  their  hats,  and  remained  uncovered  un- 
til the  hearse  had  passed.  Ike  took  this  all  to  himself, 
and  politely  returned  the  salutations  with  some  pleas- 
ant remark,  as:  "A  peautiful  morning,  shentlemens! " 
or  " how  ish  yerself  to-day?" 

There  was  a  larger  crowd  of  gentlemen  at  the  corner 
of  Pecan  street,  and  when  Ike  and  the  hearse  came  up 
they  all  took  off  their  hats  reverently.  Ike  was  moved 
at  this  universal  homage,  and  exclaimed,  half  confiden- 
tially, to  himself: 

"I  vonder  who  t*ole  'em  I  vash  traveling  for  Schwin- 
delmeyer  &  Co.^*' 

ANSWERS    TO     CORRESPONDENTS. 


The  editor  who  attends  to  this  column  solicits  ques- 
tions, because  he  is  full  of  valuable  information  and 
statistics,  and  is  surcharged  with  a  load  of  household 
receipts  that  he  wants  to  get  rid  of.  When  he  is  not 
tapped  occasionally,  and  some  of  his  information  al- 
lowed to  run  out,  he  becomes  absolutely  dangerous  on 
account  of  discharging  loads  of  information  at  irregu- 
lar and  frequent  intervals.  No  one  in  the  office  is 
safe  from  these  missiles.  No  longer  ago  than  yester- 
day he  seriously  injured  the  devil,  who  was  foraging  for 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  2 1 9 

copy,  by  the  unexpected  discharge  of  a  chunk  of  "  Re- 
ligious statistics,"  and  last  week  he  threw  up  a  "Solu- 
tion of  the  Irish  question  "  that  came  within  an  ace  of 
leaving  his  partner  a  cripple  for  life.  Last  Friday 
night  he  gave  birth  to  a  double-leaded  receipt  for  tak- 
ing grease  spots  out  of  woolen  goods,  that  shook  the 
office  from  foundation  to  dome,  bruised  the  mailing 
clerk's  foot,  and  pied  a  patent  medicine  electrotype 
cut.  Under  these  circumstances  it  is  hoped  that  the 
public  will  see  the  necessity  of  sending  on  questions  at 
once. 


Laura  B.  M.,  Kaufman:  "I  hear  a  great  deal  about 
a  new  fashionable  folly — the  decoration  of  plates  by 
amateur  artists.  How  is  the  thing  done,  and  can  you 
describe  what  the  decoration  consists  of? " 

We  have  had  several  plates  decorated  lately  by  fe- 
male members  of  our  family.  The  way  they  did  it  was 
after  this  fashion:  They  first  warmed  the  plate,  then 
they  laid  on  it  several  slices  of  the  breast  of  a  turkey, 
a  second  joint,  some  cranberries,  dressing  (without  on- 
ions), and  a  couple  of  boiled  Irish  potatoes.  Try  that 
sort  of  decoration,  and  your  friends  willappreciate  your 
artistic  ability. 

J.  P.  C,  Millican,  Texas:  "I  want  to  learn  to  play  on 
the  flute.  How  would  you  advise  me  to  go  about  it? 
Will  I  need  a  teacher?  " 

No;  you  do  not  need  a  teacher,  but  you  had  better 
borrow  a  flute.  It  would  be  well  at  first  to  select  some 
retired  spot  where  you  can  practice  undisturbed.  We 
would  suggest  that  you  hire  or  buy  a  ship  and  go  out 
on  the  wild,  tempestuous  ocean — the  ever  changing  sea 
— out  amid  the  weird  winds'  wild  roar,  and  the  bilious 
billows'   moan.     There,   far  out  of  sight  of  land,  with 


220  SKETCHES  FROM 

naught  to  disturb  you  but  the  voice  of  the  cheerful  sea 
gull  as  he  skims  the  ocean  blue  and  chants  his  merry  lay, 
you  can  heave  your  to-gallan's'l,  box  your  anchor,  and 
toot  and  toot  and  flute  till  you  can't  rest.  After  you 
practice  for  a  year  or  two  amid  those  surroundings,  we 
would  advise  that  you  go  west  and  herd  sheep  for  the 
balance  of  your  days.  If  that  does  not  effect  a  cure, 
your  case  is  a  hopeless  one. 

B.  McC,  Topeka,  Kas:  "What  do  Chinamen  use  to 
give  gloss  to  the  shirts  they  wash?" 

We  have  taken  pains  to  find  out  exactly  what  they  do 
use.  We  interviewed  a  Chinaman,  who,  after  some  per- 
suasion, divulged  the  secret,  and  we  made  him  write  it 
down  for  us  so  that  there  could  be  no  mistake.  You 
first  wash  the  shirt  and  dry  it,  then  you  put  some 


on  it.  That's  what  he  called  it,  but  as  we  can't  pro- 
nounce it  without  stuttering,  we  give  it  in  his  own 
handwriting.  Then  the  shirt  should  be  ironed.  If  these 
directions  are  carefully  followed  out,  so  the  Chinaman 
assures  us,  you  will  make  a  success  of  the  business. 

T.  A.  R.,  Cuero:  "What  can  I  do  with  a  dog  that  is 
covered  with  fleas?" 

You  can  do  several  things.  Soak  the  dog  in  coal  oil; 
that  will  kill  all  the  fleas — and  the  dog.  You  can  take 
him  out  to  the  woods  and  saw  his  head  off.  If  he  is  a 
white  dog  you  can  pick  all  the  fleas  off,  dye  him  black, 
and  sell  him  as  a  new  dog.  There  is  no  limit  as  to  the 
number  of  things  you  can  do  with  such  a  dog  as  we 


"  TEXAS    SIFTlNGSr 


presume  you  own.  If  he  was  our  property  we  think 
we  would  use  him  as  a  flea  ranch.  If  properly  culti- 
vated he  w^ould  yield  fleas  enough  to  supply  all  the  de- 
mand for  miles  around,  and  you  would  have  fleas  left 
over  to  invest,  to  give  to  the  poor,  and  to  use  for  seed. 
Ponder  over  this  and  don't  be  hasty  about  disposing 
of  your  dog.     There  may  be  millions  in  him. 

W.  J.  K.,  Palestine:  "  I  am  a  young  man  of  limited 
means;  I  have  only  been  in  the  State  a  short  time,  and 
it  doesn't  suit  me  to  stay  here  longer.  Would  you  ad- 
vise me  to  go  to  Mexico?  Please  advise  me  at 
length  through  the  columns  of  your  paper." 

As  you  have  not  given  us  full  particulars,  we  are  hard- 
ly in  a  position  to  advise  you  understandingly.  In  a 
general  way,  however,  we  would  suggest  that  if  you 
have  stolen  a  horse,  the  safest  thing  you  could  do 
would  be  to  get  over  into  Mexico  as  quickly  as  possi- 
ble, even  if  you  have  to  steal  another  horse  to  get  there 
on;  but  if  you  have  only  killed  an  acquaintance,  there 
is  no  reason  why  you  should  put  yourself  to  the  incon- 
venience of  running  off  to  Mexico.  Stay  where  you  are, 
prove  insanity,  self-defence,  or  an  alibi,  and  become  a 
leading  citizen. 

Tom  R,  Mobile:  "  Is  the  watermelon  a  fruit  or  a 
vegetable? " 

That  depends  upon  how  you  acquire  possession  of 
the  melon.  If  you  buy  it  on  the  street,  it  is  a  mere  veg- 
etable, but  if  you  have  to  crawl  on  your  stomach 
about  half  a  mile  through  high  weeds  on  a  moonlight 
night  to  steal  it,  while  the  old  Granger  who  owns  it  is 
asleep,  then  it  is  a  rich  and  luscious  tropical  fruit. 
Your  question  is  unseasonable. 


SKETCHES    FROM 


J.  P.  C,  Rockdale:  "We  want  to  procure  an  artesian 
well  in  our  town.  About  how  much  does  a  good  arte- 
sian well  cost,  and  are  all  artesian  wells  alike?" 

All  artesian  wells  are  not  alike.  Ready-made  wells, 
sold  at  country  stores,  are  not  to  be  recommended. 
They  are  liable  to  crack,  fray  at  the  edges,  and  bag 
at  the  knees.  The  cost  of  an  Artesian  well  depends  on 
its  depth.  You  should  hire  men  and  bore  your  well 
right  on  the  place  where  you  want  to  use  it.  In  that 
way  you  save  freight,  and  give  your  townsmen  the 
opportunity  to  joke  about  bores,  and  to  turn  loose  on 
the  workmen  that  old  gag  about  getting  a  long  well. 

J.  A.  P.,  Topeka,  Kas:  "  I  have  beeii  noticing  a  good 
many  references  in  the  papers  to  Oscar  Wilde,  but  have 
as  yet  learned  but  little  of  him.  Who  and  what  is  he?  I 
vrould  like  you  to  answer  if  it  does  not  take  up  too  much 
of  your  valuable  space." 


Robert  J.,  Brenham: 

The  "disunwellness  "  that  you  say  you  are  suffering 
from  can  be  cured. — Our  Family  Medicine  Book  says 
the  following  will  do  it:  "Mix  castor  oil  and  brandy 
together — three  ounces  of  oil  to  two  ounces  of  brandy 
— and  use  until  relieved."     The   Sifters  have  tried  the 


"  TEXAS  SIFTINGSr  223 

ingredients  named,  but,  owing  probably  to  the  fact  that 
they  modified  the  formula  somewhat,  one  of  them  tak- 
ing the  oil  and  the  other  the  brandy,  there  is  a  differ- 
ence of  opinion  in  this  office  as  to  the  general  effect  of 
the  medicine. 


F.  W.  A.,  Richmond:  "I  am  a  general  canvasser  for 
the  sale  of  tombstones,  musical  instruments,  maps,  pe- 
riodical literature,  etc.,  and  would  like  to  add  your  pa- 
per to  my  list  of  novelties.     What  are  your  terms? " 

You  will  see  our  terms  quoted  at  the  head  of  the 
fourth  page.  We  have  read  the  circular  you  enclose, 
but  we  are  at  a  loss  to  understand  whether  you  sell 
tombstones,  and  throw  in  musical  instruments,  maps, 
etc.,  as  an  inducement  to  people  to  buy  tombstones,  or 
whether  you  sell  the  maps  and  things,  and  throw  in  a 
tombstone  as  a  sort  of  chromo.  In  any  case,  however, 
you  are  engaged  in  a  noble  calling — alleviating  the 
grief  and  despondency  of  the  disconsolate  and  bereaved 
ones  with  maps  and  musical  instruments,  while  at  the 
same  time  you  are  prepared  to  tranquilize  and  restrain 


224  SKETCHES  FROAI 

the  giddy  and  thoughtless  by  selling  them  tombstones. 
Go  on  with  your  good  work,  and  if  you  think  that  sub- 
scribing to  Texas  Sif tings  will  sooth  the  sorrow  of  be- 
reaved relatives,  when  they  buy  a  tombstone,  you  can 
let  them  have  the  paper  at  $2  a  year,  and  you  retain 
agent's  commission.  Or,  if  you  will  agree  to  make  a 
specialty  of  soliciting  for  subscribers  to  Sif  tings,  we 
might  arrange  with  you  on  such  terms  that  you  could 
afford  to  give  a  tombstone  as  a  premium  to  sub-agents 
who  would  get  up  clubs.     Let  us  hear  from  you  again. 

Carrie  W.,  Fort  Worth:  "  Can  you  give  me  a  receipt 
for  removing  freckles? " 

We  have  been  asked  that  question  about  a  hundred 
times,  and  as  public  journalists,  we  felt  that  it  would 
never  do  to  display  ignorance  regarding  the  character 
and  habits  of  the  freckle.  So  we  gave  one  remedy  af- 
ter another — a  new  one  every  time — until  we  went 
through  our  family  medicine  book,  taking  receipts  as 
they  came.  Our  experiments  have  been  very  exhaust- 
ive— to  the  patient.  Sometimes  we  tried  kidney  wort; 
to  another  anxious  inquirer  we  recommended  what  our 
medicine  book  said  would  eradicate  dandruff  from  the 
scalp,  and,  in  another  desperate  case,  we  prescribed  a 
remedy  that  had  testimonials  certifying  that  it  would 
draw  the  core  out  of  a  soft  corn;  but  none  of  our  pa- 
tients ever  wrote  back  and  told  us  that  they  had  suf- 
fered with  freckles  for  fourteen  years,  but  that,  thanks 
to  one  application  of  our  wonderful  remedy,  they  were 
now  able  to  walk  without  assistance,  etc.,  etc.  So  we 
presume  our  remedies  were  not  quite  successful,  and  in 
future  our  medical  practice  will  be  confined  to  answer- 
ing questions  regarding  the  removal  of  warts  and  su- 
perfluous hair.     We  have  concluded  that  freckles  that 


TEXAS  SIFTINGS: 


225 


won't  yield  to  such  treatment  as  we  prescribed,  have 
settled  down  to  stay. 

Sam  McN.,  Minneapolis,  Minn.:  "I  am  seeking  a 
dry  climate  for  my  health.  Would  you  be  so  kind  as 
to  answer  through  your  correspondence  column,  and 
tell  me  what  kind  of  weather  you  have  at  this  season  in 
Texas.  A  prompt  and  concise  reply  will  be  apprecia- 
ed." 


y<^% 


BREVITIES. 


The  Gonzales  Inquirer  has  a  long  article  about  "what 
shall  we  do  with  the  ant?"     Take  it  off. 

The  stage  robbers  out  West  seem  to  have  given  up 
their  attempt  to  ferret  out  the  authorities. 

"  There  will  be  no  more  parting  there,"  said  the  man 
when  he  looked  into  the  mirror  after  having  his  hair 
shingled. 

A  most  disgraceful  affair  recently  occurred  in  Kansas. 
Two  prominent  politicians  fought  a  duel  and  neither  of 
them  was  hurt. 


2  26  SKETCHES  FROM 

■  ■ » 

Sappho  did  not  assault  the  editor  when  she  struck 
the  lyre. 

Never  kick  a  poor  friendless  tramp  away  from  your 
door.     Tell  a  policeman  to  do  it. 

The  Republican  who  is  kicked  straight  out  of  a  post- 
office,  immediately  ceases  to  be  a  straight  out  Repub- 
lican. 

There  are  no  printers  in  the  Texas  Penitentiary  at 
Huntsville,  notwithstanding  that  it  is  so  easy  to  get 
proof  in  the  case  of  a  printer. 

We  are  gratified  to  learn  that  Professor  Tice,  the 
weather  prophet,  is  80  years  of  age.  We  will  soon  get 
some  weather  we  can  depend  on. 

They  make  paint  of  the  ancient  Egyptian  mummies 
found  at  Thebes,  and  too  much  paint  makes  the  modern 
women  look  like  ancient  Egyptian  mummies. 

The  London  Spectator  says:  "  Genius  protects  itself." 
The  Spectatoi-  has  probably  heard  of  the  purchase  we 
lately  made  of  a  self-cocking  revolver. 

A  circus  is  heading  for  Texas.  A  circus  is  a  great 
comfort  to  parents.  As  long  as  the  circus  is  in  town 
they  know  for  certain  where  their  boys  spend  their 
evenings. 

The  most  truthful  and  unobtrusive  man  in  the  com- 
munity, will,  in  one  week  after  he  becomes  the  owner 
of  a  setter  dog,  develop  into  a  talented,  gaudy  and 
ostentatious  liar. 

A  Kentucky  editor  says:  "We  are  not  responsible  for 
the  article  in  our  inside.  It  was  contributed  by  a  friend," 
etc.  In  Texas  it  is  the  bar-keeper  who  is  responsible 
for  what  is  in  many  of  the  editors'  insides. 

The  Paris  Pi-ess  says  that:  "Before  leaving,  Rev. 
Ebenezer   Pentecost   filled  his  appointment."      Queer 


"  TEXAS    SIFTINGSr  227 

name  for  a  flask — what  did  he  fill  it  with — milk,  eh?     Did 
he  give  you  a  parting  pull  at  his appointment? 

A  late  fashion  note  says:  "  Surah  and  foulard  night- 
dresses are  becoming  bouffant."  For  a  long  time  we 
have  feared  that  something  of  that  sort  would  happen  to 
that  kind  of  a  night  shirt,  but  we  hated  to  say  any- 
thing about  it. 

FASHION     NOTES. 


FOR  THE    LADIES. 


Freckles  will  be  m.uch  worn  this  summer. 

Tan-color  is  much  in  vogue,  especially  in  the  coun- 
try. 

Face  powders  grow  in  popularity,  and  are  sold  by  all 
druggists. 

There  is  a  decided  tendency  toward  the  carrying  of 
fans — to  bed. 

Heavy  plaid  shawls  and  fur  jackets  are  being  used 
everywhere — by  moths. 

The  fashionable  ladies'  husbands  wear  shirts  without 
buttons.     They  pin  their  collars  on  behind  with  a  nail. 

The  hair  is  now  worn  box-plaited  and  shirred  with 
bouffant  trimmings  behind,  and  when  lawn-tennis  lam- 
brequins, cut  bias,  are  hung  over  the  ears,  it  is  consid- 
ered quite  dressy. 

Fashionable  mottoes  for  pillow  shams  are  "Good- 
night," "  Bon  Soir,"  "  Did  you  forget  to  lock  the  front 
door?"  "Sweetly  Dream,"  and  "Be  sure  and  leave  the 
milk  pitcher  out." 


228 


FASHION  NOTES. 


The  latest  fashion  in  art  work  is  fly  specks  on  old 
china. 

Light  blue  milk  with  fly  insertion  is  much  in  vogue 
at  afternoon  hotel  "  teas." 

There  is  a  revival  this  season  of  prickly  heat,  and 
mosquito  bars  are  being  much  used. 

There  is  a  growing  inclination  among  fashionable 
people  to  put  down  low-necked  dresses. 

Among  the  ladies,  newspapers,  slashed  and  cut  bias, 
with  decollette  margins,  are  much  used  at  all  seasons. 


TraS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

AN  INITIAL  FINE  OF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
THIS  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PENALTY 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  50  CENTS  ^^  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $1.00  ON  THE  SEVENTH  DAY 
OVERDUE. 


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